Rules and Rivalries

by Taylorisnotcute

Summary:

After the battle of Hogwarts, students are asked to return for another year to finish their education and destroy house rivalry. With new roommates, rules, and redemption, these eighth years might just find themselves falling in love.

Or

Eighth Year AU where our favorite enemies create rules to live peacefully and finish their education. Party games, There's only one bed, Bets, and more ensues.

Chapter 1: Returning to Hogwarts

Summary:

RULE 1. Avoid The Enemies. Especially Your Rival.

Boarding the train for hopefully the last time, Harry, Hermione, and Ron reluctantly take their seats for yet another year at Hogwarts. The seventh years have been asked to return to Hogwarts to finish their education and to encourage “inter-house unity” once again. It took a lot of convincing on Hermione’s part to get both boys on board with coming back for another year, but if the boys have learned anything at Hogwarts, it's that you don't want to piss off Hermione.

The trio all tried to get their minds off of school in the aftermath of the war. Hermione spent her time trying to fix her family and help heal others who suffered during the battle. Ron, already tired of school and his family, had found an escape at his twin brother’s joke shop (Fred and George would never object to having someone test their latest product). Hermione only barely convinced him to return once he discovered she was the one who found Fred just in time to save his life. Then, there was Harry.

Harry, who has been struggling with nightmares and guilt after the war, merely spent his time trying to piece himself back together. He was successful in most aspects, or at least he convinced himself he was. He no longer had nightmares daily, nor was he as easily frightened. He had escaped the attention directly after the war and was adamant that he would continue to avoid anyone’s praise for his part in such destruction. Hermione had tried to help him with his grief and slowly, he came to terms with it, in a way. He understood more about the death eaters, especially the children who never knew better or never had a choice. He understood Dumbledore’s plan and grew to resent the man for not telling him everything when he had the chance. But eventually, he let go of that resentment and came to terms with his role in the war. And so, he came back to Hogwarts; to finish his schooling and to help heal the building as well as his peers.

“Do you think Slughorn will be teaching potions again this year, Harry?” Hermione asks, finally getting Harry’s attention.

“I would assume so. But the real question is, who will be teaching defense against the dark arts?”

“Bloody hell, you don’t think they will put-” Ron begins before he is interrupted by Hermione.

“No, he won’t be teaching the class, Ronald. I think it will be Carrow or someone new? I haven’t had time to look into the new people who might be…” Hermione’s voice trails off as her eye catches something out the window.

Harry and Ron glance out the window and gasp. “I didn’t think they would be coming back again after last year…” Ron mumbles.

The trio was staring at the one and only infamous Draco Malfoy. His platinum hair neatly combed back and a typical Malfoy grimace plastered on his face. Once he boards the train, a hush falls over the compartments. The Slytherin ignores it and takes a seat in the compartment across from the trio. He slowly closes the door and begins reading a book.

“That was unexpected. Who do you think will return this year?” A voice said from down the aisle.

The trio stayed silent for a few moments before Hermione spoke. “We should try to make amends this year.”

Almost immediately Ron objects. “With Malfoy! Even if we ignored the fact he was a Death Eater, he treated us all horribly for years. I don’t see how you -”

Hermione elbows him in the side, hard. “How can you be so cruel? You know exactly why he did what he did. Of course, that doesn’t make it right but you can’t expect him to deny his own family when that was all he ever knew. And if you don’t remember we were equally as horrible to him Ron!” Hermione whisper-yells at the red-haired boy.

“Harry, you can’t possibly agree with her? Malfoy sided with HIM. I mean, he would have-”

“Would you two quiet down, I do agree with ‘Mione on this one, Ron. We were both stupid children when we chose sides. He didn’t choose the dark lord’s side, he chose his father's. And you really can’t blame him for that. He was a complete pain in the arse over the years, but so were we. I would rather not start off this year with a fight between the Slytherin and Gryffindor eighth years. Better yet, I won’t be speaking to any of them.” Harry mumbles, clearly annoyed at this recurring conversation between the friends. Over the summer holidays, Malfoy and the prospect of his return to Hogwarts seem to have been the topic of one too many conversations at the burrow. Harry has created a rule for himself this year;

Rule 1. Avoid Your Enemies. Especially Your Rival.

“Can we all agree to at least be civil with the few Slytherin students who decided to return? It’s only Parkinson, Zabini, and Malfoy. Maybe Nott. You two can put up with those four, can’t you? You can’t just ignore them, Harry. Both of you will see, they aren’t horrible people. They just made some mistakes.” Hermione spoke softly.

“So you’re taking their side now? Bloody hell.” Ron sighs, slumping down in his seat.

“There are no sides Ron. After everything, you seriously need to watch your tongue.” She chastises him quietly. “Now, if you boys will excuse me, I’m going to change into my robes before we’re late again.”

She storms out of the compartment followed by Ron who, for once, felt the need to apologize to the bushy-haired girl.

Harry sighs loudly, taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes. He is entirely tired of fighting with his friends. Everyone made too many mistakes to just ignore them but letting go and forgiving the Slytherins would be harder than he could ever expect. He stole a glance over to the aisle at his former enemy only to be met with an icy gaze.

At that moment, he realized Malfoy heard every word of the trio’s argument.

Chapter 2: Predictable Roommates

Summary:

RULE 2. You Know Your Enemy. Use It To Your Advantage, Darling.

Before long, the students were filing into the great hall.

“Students! Please find your seats. Quiet down now, I have a few announcements for this year. Due to last year’s events, we are not accepting first years at this time and many of you will have to take the classes you took last year. In addition, there are some seventh-year students from last year returning to finish their education here at Hogwarts and complete their N.E.W.T. testing. Will the eighth-years please follow me.” Professor McGonagall announces, motioning the group of students to follow her.

Slowly, the new eighth years trail behind the headmistress to a small table sitting next to the Hufflepuff benches. With a single nod from McGonagall, the students began to fall into their seats. Hermione sat across the Gryffindor boys while the few Slytherins gathered toward the end of the table. A few Ravenclaw students sat with the Hufflepuffs between the feuding houses.

“Now, I will not tolerate your pitiful fighting this year. There is to be no arguing this year in public areas, if you must argue, do it privately. And try not to scare the young children, boys.” McGonagall said, sending a pointed look toward Harry and Draco. “The house dormitories are not able to accommodate all of you this year; however, there is a small dormitory that Filch will direct you to. Each of you must have a roommate.”

There was a light murmur that spread across the table as everyone began to pick their housemates for the next year. Ron immediately turns toward Harry and gives a slight nod. Before long, however, the headmistress clears her throat to get their attention.

“Your roommates have already been chosen for you. As a new rule this year, you must room with someone in a different house than you. They are posted in your dormitory's common room. Before you complain, might I remind you that you are here to finish your education and show the younger children that inter-house unity is possible even after the… events of last year. As said before, there is to be no fighting in public areas. There will be no prefects this year to manage you. You are all nearly adults, thus being said, you are to run your own dormitory and house activities. I trust that you can handle yourselves. Do not make me change my mind. Understood?”

A series of nods falls over the group, a few students rolling their eyes but staying silent.

“Very well. Filch, take them to the eighth-year dormitory.” She gives one last pointed look to the Slytherin and Gryffindor students before returning to the front of the room.

At the Slytherin end of the table, Pansy nudges Draco playfully. “I’ll bet you five galleons you’re stuck with Potter.”

“I bet you won’t last five minutes alone with him,” Blaise adds with a snicker.

“Shut up, both of you. You’ll both end up with a Gryffindor if I do. They are forcing all of us together just to make an example out of us. This inter-house unity is bloody ridiculous if you ask me.” Draco mumbles angrily. They always know how to get a rise out of him by mentioning Harry Bloody Potter. If Harry wasn’t planning on acknowledging his existence, then he wouldn’t make it easy to ignore him. Draco might not be able to do much due to his parole but he knew exactly what made Harry tick. They are rivals after all.

Rule 2. You Know Your Enemy. Use It To Your Advantage.

Meanwhile, Harry is trying to focus on anything but the fuzzy feeling in his chest at the prospect of sharing a room with someone new.

“This isn’t the worst that she could have done. Who knows, it might even be nice to get to know someone from a different house.” Hermione suggests.

Ron shakes his head and chuckles. “I hope you’re right this time, ‘Mione.”

------------------------

“How could you have been more wrong, Hermione?” Harry mumbles as he begins to read the lists of names in the eighth-year common room. Ron and Hermione both were paired with a Slytherin. He stops reading for a moment to look at his friends who are taking a long look around the room.

There are clear elements from all the houses evident in the room, Harry observes. The fireplace in the center of the room looks more gothic than anything else in the room, it must be inspired by the dungeons of Slytherin. Then the red and yellow chairs and couches surrounding the fire must be Gryffindor and Hufflepuff inspired. There are many bookcases along the walls, no doubt for the Ravenclaw students. But the things that stood out to Harry were the enchanted rugs and paintings around the room that seemed to have strange elements from all the houses. The paintings all depicted acts of each core trait the houses represented. It would be very different from the common rooms everyone had been used to.

Just as Harry was about to walk up to one of the moving paintings, a cold laugh broke through his train of thought. “Well, Granger. I think you’ll be doing a little more than studying this year if you’re my roommate.” Pansy Parkinson loudly states as she strides over toward the Gryffindor students who are huddled together by the fire now.

Hermione takes a deep breath and smiles. “I do think that would be a nice change of events for my last year here, don’t you?”

Pansy must not have been expecting anything short of a snarky reply because she only glared at Hermione and frowned. She quickly turns away and stomps back toward her snickering friends.

“Bug off you three, have you even looked to see who you’re stuck with?” Pansy mumbled shoving Blaise toward the list of names.

“Good luck with her, ‘Mione. You’re going to need it.” Harry chuckles as he starts to walk toward the list.

“Man, they really are trying with this bloody house unity shite, aren’t they?” Blaise mumbles and he turns, once again, toward the approaching Gryffindors. “Neville, love, Let’s get going. I want to have the first pick of rooms.” With a shameless wink and his flirting, (that caused an embarrassing blush to appear on the awkward boy’s face) Zabini starts to make his way up the one set of stairs at the end of the room. Neville soon follows trying to avoid the heated gaze of his friends. Draco and Pansy immediately begin laughing and poor Neville gets stuck with their flirty friend.

“Try not to scare the bloke too bad, Zabini,” Draco calls after his friend.

“Have you even looked at the list, Malfoy? I would if I were you.” Hermione snaps. She turns then, to her new roommate. “Shall we go see if we can get one of the larger rooms, Pansy?”

Pansy, shocked at hearing her first name being used by a Gryffindor, followed Hermione up the stairs. “Since when are you not trying to insult us, Granger?”

“Since I need your help. I have a plan....” Her voice fades out leaving a dreaded silence in the common room.

Ron shares one knowing look with Harry, as he sighs and checks the list. Theo clears his throat and rolls his eyes and Ron’s disgusted expression.

“I’m not that bad of a choice, weasel. You could have gotten stuck with Dray.” Nott jabs his friend in the side and quickly runs off toward the stairs before Draco has a chance to scold him for the blasted nickname. Malfoy lets out an irritated sigh and pulls at his soft, white-blonde hair that looks slightly disheveled today from the number of times he had run his hands through it. Not that Harry had noticed, of course.

“Harry, maybe we should consider Hermione’s idea… and try not to get yourself killed this year, mate,” Ron says looking between the two boys left in the room.

“You better not snore, Weasly,” Nott yells down to Ron. Almost immediately, Ron runs after the boy trying to argue as he does but ends up almost tripping up the stairs. Both Harry and Draco laugh at this but upon hearing each other’s amusement, they stop laughing and directly glare at each other.

Harry sighs and breaks eye contact with the blonde. Before he had the chance to comment on how predictable Professor McGonagall had been by pairing the main rival houses together, Draco immediately comments, “Shut up, Potter.”

Draco starts walking toward the stone staircase that leads to the dormitories. He didn’t give Harry a chance for a smart remark. He knew the chosen one wasn’t used to being ignored or talked down to (or so he thought). Harry, growing angrier by the minute, stomps after him and roughly grabs his shoulder, turning him around. Forest green met glowing silver in a deadly stare.

“I haven’t even said anything to you. Why do you have to be such a prat, Malfoy?” Harry complains, shoving the blonde’s shoulder harder than intended. Malfoy didn’t stumble back as predicted, but instead, he didn’t move an inch.

“I don’t know, it’s not like we’ve spent the last seven years hating each other, is it? I don’t know what you expected to change now that you are the Saviour of the Wizarding World instead of the Chosen One, but might I remind you that some of us aren’t going to worship you for your part in the war. So please, go about this plan of yours, whatever it may be. I would happily watch another one of your plans fail this year.” Draco was now seething, he might know how Harry ticks, but the other man knew just how to piss off Draco. He steps closer to Potter, leaving them nearly chest to chest. Draco, being a few inches taller than the other man, looks down with a smirk.

Harry, red with anger, pushes the chest in front of him (ignoring the muscles stretching under his fingers). This time, Malfoy stumbles a few steps back, not expecting the shove, giving Harry time to land a solid punch to the other's jaw. The dark-haired boy, being very sportsman-like, allows the blonde to recover. Malfoy doesn’t raise his fists or even attempt to cover himself. He merely raises his hand to nurse his bruising jaw and merely stares at Harry. Unable to read his expression, Harry raises his fist and resumes taunting the enemy.

“Forgot how to fight, Malfoy? Or maybe you just don’t know what to do without your father telling-” Harry flew backward with more force than a simple punch should have been able to produce. Falling on the ground with a thud, in seconds Malfoy was straddling him, with his hand wrapping tightly against his throat. Cool, metal rings and calloused fingers dig helplessly into soft flesh, causing Harry to thrash around slightly. Malfoy pins both Harry’s hands above his wild hair with his free hand to keep the man still.

“I stopped listening to my father when he told me to kill your sorry arse. Would you rather me fulfill his wishes right now? You know nothing of my father or my family, Potter. My father is dead, as is yours. Both lost in bloody wars to the same dark lord. If you would learn to keep your mouth shut and control your anger, this year will not be hard for you.” The man spat, only inches away from Harry’s reddening face. Loosening his grip on the other man’s throat, he waits for a response as Harry gasps for air.

“Even if you could kill me....” Harry mumbles, trying to steady his breathing. “You wouldn’t.” Malfoy’s face screws up with an expression that can only be described as annoying guilt. “Because… you don’t actually want me dead. We both lost peo-”

That was all Harry could get out before Pansy and Hermione both calmly walked down the stairs and over to the pair quickly. They heard some crashes already and figured it had something to do with the pair of feuding men.

“Fighting already?” Hermione said at the same time that Pansy mumbles, “That’s kinky, Dray” under her breath.

Harry pushes Malfoy off and scrambles out from under him as if the boy was burning him. He takes one last look and the now kneeling blonde before rushing up the stairs to the last empty dorm room, a look of pure regret on his face.

Draco stands up silently, brushes some dust off his pants, and watches Harry’s retreating form. He only nods at the two girls staring at him and starts up the stairs.

“I bet you a galleon we catch them making out by the end of the week.” Pansy turns toward Hermione with a devilish smile playing at her lips.

“I’ll give it two weeks.” She replied with a small laugh.

Notes:

I need to know, who do you think would top?

Edit;
So I decided to edit all of my work on this so far and make it more like the title and how I intended it to be. I realized, I forgot to add a whole chapter in between the first chapter and this one. Sooooo the first second of this chapter is brand new to you guys.

Chapter 3: Unpredictable and Unreasonable Actions

Summary:

RULE 3. Never Fucking Heal Your Enemy (You Will Regret It).

RULE 4. Don't Stare At The Enemy (You May Begin To See The Human In Him).

By the time Malfoy had reached their dorm, the last room at the end of a small corridor, Harry had already unpacked his belongings with the help of a spell, no doubt. In the small room, two four-poster beds pressed against opposite walls take up most of the space. The bed on the right was neatly made, a red duvet covered with matching pillows filled the space. Surrounding the bed was red and gold curtains, most definitely a token of Harry’s house. Despite the one side of the room being completely organized, there was no sign of Hogwarts golden boy anywhere. Malfoy, not being entirely bothered by it, began to unpack his belongings, with a few spells to speed things up a bit, of course.

With a flick of his wand (that Harry had graciously returned to him after his trial), dark green, nearly black, silk curtains and a matching set of sheets rose out of his trunk at the end of the bed and positioned themselves in the correct spots. A silvery-white duvet is the next thing to come out of the trunk and position itself on his bed. Closing the trunk and removing his robe, Malfoy resorts to reading to pass the time. After setting his wand and robe on his trunk, he sits on his bed with his back pressed against the cold cobblestone wall and lets out a long sigh, remembering the throbbing in his jaw. Just as the blonde was trying to remember some sort of healing charm to dissipate the impending bruise (that would be entirely too visible on his pale skin), a portion of cobblestone on the wall beside Potter’s bed opens like a door on hinges. Draco looks up from his book momentarily only to look back down seconds later due to the riveting image he sees.

Standing before him is a shirtless Gryffindor who looks to have just gotten out of the shower. In Draco’s brief glance, he notices small water droplets glistening off olive skin. To the blonde’s surprise, the golden boy was actually in decent shape. He had broad shoulders, toned arms, and a small line of dark hair trailing his flat stomach down into the waistband of his loose muggle sweatpants. Across his chest and forearms, scars of all sizes can be seen. Some scars Draco recognizes from spells he was all too familiar with, but others look too thin or too straight to be an effect from a spell. Something else seems to catch his eye before he can ponder where the unfamiliar scars could have come from. It was not a scar, nor the water slipping ever so slowly down Harry’s abdomen, and most certainly not the prominent hip bones and v-line (that continued further than the man’s pants allowed him to see, no doubt). No, what caught Draco’s eye was the dark red handprint wrapping around Harry’s throat.

Imprints of rings left darker marks than the rest of his large hand, creating a perfect replica of Draco’s right hand. Harry moves around, beginning to dry his dripping hair, seeming unbothered by the bruise that seems to darker the longer the Slytherin stares at it. The only indication that he acknowledged the growing bruise is the pink tint of his cheeks, not that Draco believed it was anything other than the shower he just took. Instantly, a wave of guilt fell over Draco. He hadn’t meant to leave such a mark on the man. At the moment, however, he did not care how much pain he had caused him.

In a matter of seconds, while Harry is too busy towel drying his wild hair, Draco makes an impulsive decision that is bound to make him lose sleep later that night. With his brain clouded by guilt and regret, he mumbles a healing charm under his breath, directing two fingers toward Harry, performing a sort of wandless magic. The bruised skin slowly fades back to normal, tanned skin. Draco mumbles the same charm for his jaw before Potter notices he had done anything.

Harry feels a warm tingle spread through his neck and shoulders. Immediately assuming the worst, his head snaps up instantly and he narrows his eyes, staring at his rival. “Malfoy, I swear to Godric if you just cursed me, I will-”

“I didn’t bloody curse you, Potter. If you don’t believe me, take a damn look in the mirror. You might just want to thank me afterward.” Draco interrupts.

Harry, still skeptical, puts on his glasses and walks back into the hidden bathroom. The daring bruise that was on his neck had disappeared, shockingly. Meaning, Malfoy had to have healed him. Harry, extremely confused, walks over to the blonde’s bed and stands directly in front of him.

Without thinking too much, Potter says, “Your wand is sitting on your trunk.”

“And you are going to get my bed wet with your blasted hair. Are you only going to point out the obvious, Potter?” Draco sighs and runs his hand through his hair. He is already regretting his impulsive decision to heal the bloody bloke.

Rule 3. Never Fucking Heal Your Enemy (You Will Regret It).

“But… How did you… Why…” The shirtless man struggles to find the words to match his confused thoughts. His enemy, the boy he had hexed countless times in seven years, his fucking rival in every way, had just healed his without using his wand. Not only is that an extremely difficult thing to achieve, but Harry can’t even do it, and he’s the chosen one for Godric’s sake.

Draco, beginning to get aggravated, remarks, “If you recall, there was a time I had to do without my wand. I simply… learned to manage. And as to why I cast the charm, it’s because…” His anger begins to dwindle as he tries to formulate a practical response. Why did he heal that bruise? “Because neither of us can afford to be caught fighting by any professor this year. Anyone would have known I was the one who choked you, I mean, you could see the imprint of my bloody rings and-”

Shooking Draco, Potter begins to laugh (a sound Draco has never heard at such close proximity before). “So you did it to save your own arse? Not because you felt, I don’t know, guilty about nearly killing me again?” The golden boy was now ruffling his hair with his towel, muscles contracting as he did. He turns around, lazily walking toward his bed. Malfoy silently scolded himself for wondering if every part of this man was lean or toned (he had dimples on his lower back which Draco decided against acknowledging). However, more scars and healed wounds can be seen across his back. These scars are extremely less likely to be from past spells, which Draco tries to avoid thinking about.

“You make a good point, Malfoy. Maybe next time you decide to take your anger out on me, you’ll be more careful about where you leave marks.” He calls over his shoulder before casually laying on his bed, feet crossed and his hands above his head.

Draco smirks at the unintentional innuendo, ignoring the jab at his temperament. “I normally intend to make the marks quite visible. And I would say that professors don’t want to question where the marks came from normally, but you are Harry Potter, after all, they might be interested...”

Harry’s face begins to redden. He brings his forearm up to cover his face and groans.”You are entirely insufferable, Malfoy. Do you honestly believe that’s what I meant?”

Draco continues to smirk as he stands up and retrieves his pajamas. “Who knows. I certainly don’t know your fantasies. But it would make sense. You were following me around all of sixth year.”

Harry’s embarrassed blush turns to a flush of anger in seconds. Hermione and Ron had made the same jabs at him when he first came out to them months ago. “I don’t even want to know how you realized I was observing you but I can assure you, I would never fancy you, Malfoy.” Harry sits up and directs his full attention toward Draco who casually ignores his movement and starts to rummage through his trunk, looking for nightclothes.

“And I only fancy you in your dreams, Potter,” Draco murmurs and begins to change. Harry, still feeling angry, glares at the pale man’s back. And pale it was. Light scars appear scattered over his body. As he removed his trousers, Harry still did not turn to look away. He couldn’t. His anger began to dissipate by the oh-so-distracting image in front of him. The man’s body was not as hideous as he expected it to be. He was desperately trying to find a flaw in the man but couldn’t, at least not from the back. Even the scars from old curses couldn’t be considered a flaw because they somehow looked beautiful on him, not that he would ever admit it to the bloke, or himself for that matter. Harry had enough self-control to avoid looking at a certain area (or at least that’s what he tells himself), but it’s not until Draco pulls on his pajama bottoms does he notice something peculiar.

On the man’s forearm, where the dark mark had been just months ago, was a series of blooming flowers. Colors splashed around the edges of simple roses, lavender, and lilies. Greens, blues, reds… all perfectly covering up a mark no magic could hide for long.

Draco Malfoy had gotten a muggle tattoo to cover up his dark mark.

Rule 4. Don’t Stare At The Enemy (You May Begin To See The Human In Him).

Notes:

Short chapter for today. Next one will be longer, Promise.
Sorry if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes, I typically write at night and my brain refuses to fuction then.

Chapter 4: Midnight Meeting and Coming out

Summary:

RULE 5. Make Him Blush Often. It Confuses Him (More Than It Confuses You).

Notes:

Okay, so I got into university!!! Hopefully, I'll finish this before I start classes. Still Editing these existing chapters before I add more but it's coming along.

That night with curtains closed, two enemies lay awake, staring at the same ceiling. Neither one of them could understand what had happened today. First, Harry learned that the Slytherins had come back for another year that is bound to be filled with ridicule from everyone (They were on the other side of the war, why would they come back to everyone resenting them?). Then, he learned he had to share a room with one. Not just a Slytherin though, THE Slytherin that had been plaguing his very existence since he stepped foot into Hogwarts. The fight aside (even if Harry was very confused about his feelings toward the handprint on his neck or how close the pair had gotten), there was the tattoo. A very muggle idea that the blonde would have most likely detested, as he hated the idea of muggle technology. Or… Did he use to? With too many unanswered questions in his head, Harry continues to toss and turn, unable to get comfortable.

Draco is more confused by the day than Harry. He had helped a Gryffindor. On purpose. And it was the bloody golden boy. Though it was his fault he had to heal him, he didn’t understand the feeling in the pit of his stomach when he was that close to the raven-haired boy. Sure, it could have been repulsion or hatred but this felt different. Guilt? Regret? Couldn’t be that Draco would recognize those feelings quickly as he has wrestled with them the months following the war. Whatever the feeling, even if it was only there for the few minutes when Potter was shirtless with Draco’s handprint on his neck, it made him want to heal the bloke. And that feeling that was supposed to be brief, only grew more intense as the night went on. The image of water dripping off the other man’s chest, only a few feet away from Draco… the way his muscles shifted at his smallest movements... Finally, Draco mumbles a Lumos and decides to try and get his mind off his less than heterosexual thoughts about his rival.

Behind his red curtain, Harry sees a small amount of light coming from his left. He silently pushes himself up onto his elbow and opens his curtain to see the other man reading by the light of his wand. Seemingly unknown to Draco, Harry is staring. He can’t take his eyes off the other boy. The way his messy blonde hair falls over his face, casting shadows across his eyes, is... captivating. His features are softer than normal. Once in a while, he mumbles a comment on the book he is reading or he would mouth the words as he reads, Harry notices. Both draw Harry’s attention to the blonde’s lips. Pink flesh is only accentuated by pale skin. Trailing his eyes further down, his attention falls past the black t-shirt to his exposed forearm. Flowers cover were a snake used to be. Bright colors. Blues, purples, and yellows outline black petals and vines that wrap around his arm. Resisting the sudden urge to go over and trace the intricate tattoo with his fingertips, he lays back down but continues to watch the pale man, hoping to find some sort of answer.

Draco noticed Harry staring at him but, he found it better to ignore him when he did this over the years. Harry was probably overthinking Draco’s entire existence again or plotting something against him. He ignores the man’s gaze for as long as he can, but the staring is starting to burn through his t-shirt, setting flames across his skin. Beads of sweat start to form on his neck so he sets his book and wand down beside him and slowly pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it toward the foot of his bed carelessly. He picks up his book and wand again before smirking at Harry’s shocked expression as he took in Draco’s bare skin. It must have been the way the dim light made shadows appear on his chest or that both men were extremely sleep-deprived because Harry was sure he’s not sane anymore. Even though he is lightly scared from the dark lord’s torture, Harry still thought it was beautiful against his better judgment.

Harry’s face both contorts into a mix of shock and guilt. Draco wore his scars with more confidence than expected. Flashes of a terrible duel cross his mind as he continues to stare at Draco. Guilt, regret, remorse all weigh heavily in his mind. He didn’t realize what the spell would do to his rival when he cast it. If Snape didn’t get to him when he did… Harry didn’t want to think of another death on his hands. As he continues to try desperately to find a fault in the man’s body in front of him, he notices that Malfoy isn’t tense. No, he’s relaxed. This may be the first time Harry has seen Draco relaxed. He had always been so rigid in their previous years together at Hogwarts, but then again, a war can do that to people. Harry isn’t too sure how to feel about this new relaxed Draco, but he does know one thing for sure; he’s breaking a hell of a lot of the rules he made this summer and it has only been a single day.

“Are you done staring, Potter? If I hadn’t known any better I would have thought you were into blokes.” He spoke softly and calmly. No hint of malicious intent in his tone.

Harry jumps at being directly addressed in such a calm manner, it takes a moment for him to register the accusation that was made against him. A light blush crept up his neck at the man’s words. Harry had already come out to most of the Gryffindors after the war and his inevitable break up with Ginny led many to assume at least one of the two was homosexual. (They both actually ended up being attracted to the same sex.) He clears his throat trying to not sound as affected by the comment as he was.

“I wasn’t staring. Get over yourself, Malfoy. I must have just zoned out while I was thinking.” Harry blatantly lies, ignoring the blush that comes to his cheeks.

“You were staring and might I say, for quite some time. And there’s nothing wrong with being gay, Potter. It’s easier to just admit it early on, you know.” Draco mumbles the last part, thinking back to his own struggles with his sexuality. Despite the conversation, he continues to act as though he was reading. He didn’t understand why he felt the need to do so, but nonetheless, he continued to read.

“Have a lot of experience with men, do you Malfoy?” Harry taunts, trying desperately to direct the conversation away from his own sexuality. He props himself up on his elbow, looking across the poorly lit room at Draco Malfoy, his gay awakening as Hermione likes to believe. She was wrong, of course, his first crush on a man was actually Cedric Diggory, though he will never admit that to the man who not only won the Triwizard Tournament but, the man who is now a famous seeker.

“Curious about my sex life, Potter?” Draco chuckles before staring directly into green eyes, casting his book to the side and dropping the Lumos. The only light now in the room was shining moonlight allowed into space by a window between their beds.

“In your dreams, Malfoy.” Harry sat up now, rather pissed off. He did not appreciate the man’s calm manner while hinting at Harry’s “hidden” sexuality. Not to mention, without his glasses and the proper lighting, it was getting harder to see his enemy properly.

Draco continues to smirk and maintain his piercing eye contact with Harry. “Now you want me to dream of you, Potter? My, my, you must really-”

“Just because I fancy men, does not mean I happen to find you attractive, Malfoy. I have standards.” Harry spits, cutting Draco off. Before adding, “If I fancied men, I mean.”

Malfoy chuckles, “I had a feeling you were gay. I myself am bisexual but recently I’ve found myself leaning toward men as you may have noticed considering the recent headlines in the Daily Prophet. And as for your standards, I’m sure I am above them in many aspects, Potter.” Draco slides off the end of his bed and takes a few steps over to where Harry is sitting. Draco reaches up, and loosely grabs the bar above the four-poster bed. Harry ignores his senses telling him to look anywhere else by the pale man’s face as he comes into the moonlight. He maintains eye contact for a few seconds before breaking it and looking anywhere else but at Draco. Harry is finding it harder and harder to maintain eye contact with the blonde as of late.

“If you didn’t find me attractive, you wouldn’t have been staring at me so intently. I could practically feel your gaze on my chest even before I took off my shirt. Save your breath, Potter.” Draco leans down so he is level with Harry, letting go of the bar. With only a few inches between the pair, Draco smirks as heat rises to the cheeks of the man who can’t seem to look him in the eye. Against his better judgment, Harry draws his gaze to the man’s face in front of him. Draco’s voice is quiet but there is a small trace of smugness hidden beneath that calmness. “And maybe try not to deny something so clearly evident by the blush on your checks.”

With that, Draco left Harry sitting there on the edge of his bed, gripping his sheets in pure anger. Draco calmly folds his discarded shirt with his back toward Harry. Harry knew his “blush” was probably just pure, blinding rage or maybe slight embarrassment for coming out to Draco in a moment of impulsivity. The Gryffindor continues his string of impulsivity when he stands and takes a few steps to where Draco is standing. Harry roughly grabs his shoulders and turns him around, looking up at the man who he could have sworn wasn’t that tall last year. He is breathing heavier than he needs to be, but he is pissed.

“I don’t know what the hell happened to you after the war, but it’s making you act more like a Gryffindor than I am right now. So please, before you get your ego any more bruised than it already is, shut the hell up, Malfoy.” Harry angrily says as he hits the man’s chest, seemingly trying to make his point clearer, but only ends up strangely complimenting Draco. But hopefully, Draco’s love for his house would cause him to get as angry as Harry. How was he being so calm about this?

Draco only chuckled darkly. He takes a step toward Harry, making the dark-haired boy step back unconsciously. After a few seconds of this, Draco casually pushes on Harry’s chest, making him fall backward and sit on his own bed. As Draco walks back to his own bed he says without looking at Harry, “I believe you’re confusing Gryffindor’s impulsive bravery with Slytherin’s cunning ambition, Potter. Aren’t you the one who always assumes I have some kind of ulterior motive? Who's to say I don’t have one now?”

Draco turns around and sits on his own bed again, sighing. He was beginning to question this feeling he gets every time Harry is that close to him. He enjoys making the dark-haired man blush but he can’t understand why. He shouldn’t even be talking to the bloke this much. Knowing he is starting to cross a line between teasing and flirting, he picks up his wand and book again, casting a quick Lumos with a smirk. He takes note of a new rule to this little game they have between them.

Rule 5. Make Him Blush Often. It Confuses Him (More Than It Confuses You).

Harry isn’t finished tho. He lets out a yawn against his will but starts to stand up. As Potter goes to stand fully, Draco puts his hand up and clears his throat. “Take another step and I will not be responsible for my actions. You may deny your attraction to me but I will not deny such an accusation when it comes to your looks.”

Harry’s blush returns with such velocity, he sits back down on his bed, staring at Draco. Draco returns to reading as if nothing happened as a way to get his thoughts off how much he wants Harry to drag this out further and come towards him again. His book begins to take over his thoughts as he had hoped. That is until Harry sleepily mumbles something that keeps Draco awake longer than he intended to be.

Harry stares at the man reading and genuinely smiles as his eyes close. He understood. Draco was just trying to get a rise out of him for being gay. He wants more blackmail information, perhaps. Harry had fallen for it again. Harry yawns again and gets comfortable. Without thinking he says,

“Is that a threat or a promise, Draco?”

It could have been the fact that Harry Fucking Potter just said Draco’s first name for the first time ever or the vaguely suggestive comment but Draco was left speechless with slightly tinted cheeks.

Red tint on pale cheeks was the last thing Harry saw before he passed out with a smile on his face.

Chapter 5: Enemies who flirt with you

Summary:

Rule 6. Flirt With Your Enemy, But Try Not To Enjoy It.

“Pansy we are not doing this right now,” Draco mumbles, pushing past his friend to try and escape her constant pestering.

“It’s not even a hard question, Dray. I just asked if you remembered how your fight with Potter started. You ended up pinning him down and choking him and I was just wondering-”

Draco is now walking away from his friend quickly to try and avoid the conversation. He’s not interested in reliving what happened yesterday. He barely slept thanks to Potter and his ridiculous words. He makes his way into the great hall, and takes note of some of the familiar faces at the eighth year table, and, to his great disdain, he is forced to sit next to the Gryffindors by Blaise and Pansy.

Pansy practically pushes Draco into his seat and ignores his glare as she starts talking in a hushed tone to Hermione. He can’t pick up much of the conversation but he is almost positive he heard his name mentioned at least twice. Quickly, Draco forgets about the private conversation he was trying to listen to as a particularly distracting roommate fills the seat across from him. Harry, as oblivious as ever, only seems to notice his fellow Gryffindors and Pansy. The smile he greets them with is something Draco has never had the pleasure of seeing up close before. It’s genuine, full of real happiness that comes with being around friends. His lips curve effortlessly into a grin that, no doubt, causes the foreign, fluttery feeling in the blonde’s stomach. The feeling is beginning to concern Draco, he starts to wonder if he needs to see Pomfrey about it.

After greeting the others, Harry finally notices the Slytherin in front of him. “Oh- Hello, Malfoy.” The Gryffindor had not let the other man’s first name slip from his lips again. He couldn’t bear the teasing from his friends if he did.

“Harry.” Draco nods, noticing the blush that appears on the other's face and his breath becomes noticeably heavier. He smirks, continuing to eat his breakfast as nothing happened. Pansy and Hermione look between the two boys and make eye contact before giggling quietly and returning to their private conversation.

“Wait. How long have you been Harry?” Ron asks with his mouth full, just as confused by the interaction as Harry himself.

Harry, deflecting attention from the situation again, faces Ron and says, “My whole life, if I remember correctly.”

“Well no shit, Harry! I mean why is Malfoy-”

“Boys! Thank you. As I was saying, Pansy and I have decided the best way to kick off the new school year is to have a party. Just the eighth year and a few seventh year students. And before you ask, Seamus, yes. There will be firewhiskey and whatever else you and Dean want to bring. It will be in our common room friday at eight. Any questions?” Hermione interrupted Ron to Harry’s great relief, but a party? With all the houses? Harry wasn’t so sure he wanted to attend.

“But ‘Mione, we’ve only been back for two days. And I don’t think it’s a good idea. Do you remember how much trouble we’ve gotten into over the years for these types of parties?” Harry tries to reason with the wild-haired woman, feeling strange that their roles in this argument seemingly have reversed over the course of the summer.

“Come on, Potter! We haven’t done anything for at least a year or two that's actually fun. We survived a fucking war for merlin’s sake! Don’t be a prude.” Pansy chimes in. “Even Dray is going! And he never went to the Slytherin parties in the last few years. We had to literally drag him out of our dorms.”

McGonagall dismisses the houses back to their dormitories for the night, but the eighth years continue their conversation. Once they are all in one group again, walking to their dorms on the other side of the castle, the Slytherins and a few others from other houses continue to pester Harry about joining the party tonight.

“What can I say? A room full of drunk people trying to hit on me isn’t my kind of party.” Draco shrugs, as they make their way down the hall. “And Pansy what have I told you about calling me, Dray?”

Harry scoffs. “You must be really full of yourself to think an entire house wants you, Malfoy.”

Draco chuckles and begins walking next to Harry, leaning slightly closer than he should’ve. “You’ve never been to a Slytherin party, Potter. Pansy here,” he gestures to the raven-haired woman to his right, “Likes to give potions out at parties. Two years ago, her favorite was love potions. And for your information, a lot of people want me in more ways than I can count. But the catch is, I don’t want any of them.”

Rolling his eyes as he pushes the man (ignoring the sheet of muscle that tensed under his touch) to put some much-needed distance between them, he looks back at the now smirking blonde and says, “Is arrogance just an unsaid trait of you guys? Or is Dra- Malfoy just an exception?” Harry avoids Draco’s gaze and looks to Blaise instead.

“Draco here is just an exception, Darling. But you’re not getting out of this one. You will be attending this party.” Blaise grins, emphasizing his best friend’s name.

“But-”

“Salazar, Potter. Are you scared of a little party?” Draco continues to press closer to Harry. The pair are now climbing the stairs to the dorms, ignoring the portraits’ comments about young love as they go.

“You wish, Malfoy. Fine!” He turns to Hermione. “I’ll be there. But I never said I’ll stay the entire time.”

“Brilliant. Thanks for the help Draco.” She smiles as she pulls Pansy into their room.

Harry stares at Draco in disbelief. Was he a part of Hermione’s plan all along? Draco continues to walk to their dorm but stops when he realizes he isn’t being followed by the other man.

He sighs and walks back down to Harry, grabs his hand, and pulls him up the stairs. “You’re thinking too much again,” Draco mumbles before continuing to explain. “I do believe Granger factored our petty competitions into her plan. If Pansy knew I’d be attending the party, your little friend probably did too, considering they are living in the same room. Though I’m still not entirely sure what they are planning…”

His voice trails off, but Harry didn’t hear a word the man said. He was too focused on the warm tingles that spread through his arm. Of course, he wasn’t aware of the blush on his cheeks or that fact he was gripping the other’s hand much too tight to be unintentional, but Draco was. Harry had a dazed look on his face and he looked between the pair's intertwined hands and Draco. The blonde just smiles at him and chuckles.

“Hurry up. Some of us have things to do tonight.” He drops Harry’s hand as the man suddenly seems to come back to reality.

“Going to make yourself pretty for Parkinson, aye Malfoy?” Harry pokes as they enter their dorm.

“Parkinson?” Malfoy laughs loudly. “Do you not remember how she came out right before the battle last year? She’s a lesbian, Harry. I can assure you, I will not be looking pretty for her. However, I'm sure you won't be able to focus on anything but me tonight.” He finishes with a wink before entering their bathroom and closing the door, leaving Harry wondering what happened overnight to make Draco stop being an annoying rival and become flirtatious and almost friendly…

Maybe it’s because Harry is too competitive or too suspicious. Maybe it’s that Malfoy just gets under his skin. But he’s determined to not allow his rival to win whatever game he’s playing, even if he didn’t really know the rules.

Both men seem to have added the same rule to their unspoken game;

Rule 6. Flirt With Your Enemy, But Try Not To Enjoy It.

Notes:

I hope you like the story so far. I like it, but I just need to find the time to write more often. I love reading comments on this so please, tell me your thoughts!

edited*

Chapter 6: Harry Potter is not blushing

Summary:

Rule 7. If You Can't Hate Him, Learn Self-Control.

A week had passed with Harry trying to avoid Draco at all costs. This included trying to be late to meals and even using his invisibility cloak to study so Draco wouldn’t try to mess with him. He wasn’t aware that the man could sense when he used the cloak, but Draco allowed him to hide for now. He had enough to think about. Between helping Pansy and Granger plan the party and thinking about Harry Bloody Potter, Draco had his thoughts to occupy him most of the time. Every once in a while he would amuse himself by flirting with Harry. Nothing too much at the moment, just little jabs directing his attention to Draco’s body or looks. He was just trying to get a rise out of him, as always.

But Harry was getting frustrated. He was confused more than anything. How does one go from hating someone to noticing everything about them? Hermione and Ron argue that he already noticed Malfoy too much for someone who only fought with him, but he elected to ignore those comments. He never replied to the blonde’s taunts and flirtatious remarks. Sure, he was fit, but that didn’t mean Harry had to acknowledge that out loud. Harry had decided he just needed to get Draco off his mind tonight. And, well, nothing ever goes as planned with Harry.

Draco had been in the bathroom for at least an hour now, Harry thought as he finished changing into a pair of black jeans and a tight, red t-shirt. He never understood the point of dressing up for parties when he was only going to look messy by the end of the night. Sighing, Harry tries to fix his unruly hair to no avail. Dark brown tufts of hair stuck out in every direction despite the man trying to comb it out. It always seemed determined to stay as wild as it had been since he was eleven. A small grin appears on his lips as he remembers the look on his Aunt’s face when his hair grew back overnight after her terrible haircut. Giving up on trying to fix his hair, Harry leaves his room and heads to the party thinking maybe he can leave earlier before things get too out of control if he joins the chaos now.

Meanwhile, Draco is struggling to figure out what to do with his hair for the second time. He wants to look perfect. He decides to wear a satin, dark green button-up. He nearly leaves the shirt unbuttoned completely but cautiously fastens the last two buttons just below the middle of his lean chest. He rolls up the sleeves to show off his new muggle tattoo and smirks proudly at the ink on his arm. He leaves one side of the shirt untucked from his black trousers that were clearly muggle-styled jeans. They had small rips and torn-up spots that Draco thought his family would greatly disapprove of, so of course, he needed to buy them. Blaise convinced him to buy a pair of black leather boots that had dark yellow lines around the soul. Overall, he’s pleased with the outfit he put together, but then there was his hair. He decides to try something different with his blonde hair. He uses some Weasley product Pansy had given him called Whomping Willow Paste. It pretty much made his hair look like he stood too close to that damn tree, or as Pansy likes to call it, sex hair. Slightly resembling a wavy mess but it looks like you put effort into it, at the same time, it is very fitting for Draco’s new-post-war look.

Looking in the mirror one last time, Draco smirks. He looks good. With his tattoo on display and the muggle jeans, he would bring Harry to his knees. In what way, he wasn’t so sure yet. He obviously no longer loathed the bloke, but despite his cool demeanor, he had no idea what he felt for the man. It was getting dangerously close to a friendship, he thought. But friends don’t try to intimidate each other and make each other flustered? And he still hated him, but not to the point of critizing every breath he takes… right?

Before Draco could ponder anymore on the subject, a loud bang on the door shook him from his thoughts.

“Oi! Pretty boy, your roomie already left. Are you coming or not?” Pansy yells on the other side of the stone door.

Opening the door and walking past his energetic friend, he announces, “I’m afraid I will look much too attractive compared to you, Pansy. You might just want to go without me if you have any intention of hitting on Granger tonight.”

The dark-haired girl punched the blonde in the arm before dragging him out of his own dorm room. “You’re lucky I didn’t hex you for that insinuation, Dray. I would have but I’d rather watch Harry panic when he sees you. I mean, if I wasn’t a lesbian,” she smirks while pausing to look at Draco’s choice of outfit, “I would entirely have shagged you already, love.”

Draco shrugs Pansy’s grip off his wrist and continues walking toward the sound of muffled music. “Harry glares at me most of the time, Pans. When he’s not glaring at me he’s ignoring me. And of course you’d have tried to, I am a lot of bad things but ugly is not one of them.”

“Oh sod off, you’re far too cocky for your own good sometimes. But really? You’re telling me you got yourself all dressed up not to impress the boy you’ve fancied for years?” Pansy stops just in the middle of the stairwell, crossing her arms over her chest.

Rolling his eyes, he defends, “I have not fancied him for years, you just assumed I have. And-”

“So you admit you fancy him now then? Continue.” The clever woman interrupts.

“And I am able to look good for my own pleasure and benefit, Pansy. I could ask you the same thing, however. Tell me, have you seen Granger already this evening? And don’t think I don’t know you two are up to something!” Draco teases as he walks away from Pansy, into an… interesting scene in the common room.

The party was already in full swing. Seamus and Dean did not disappoint with the drinks. Anything from firewhiskey and butterbeer to muggle alcohol bottles lined the room on small tables or were floating in the air between friends. Loud music fills his ears and brightly colored lights temporarily blind him. The furniture had been transfigured into small bean bags that were pressed tightly against the walls of the room to allow for dancing no doubt. And dancing did, in fact, commence. Draco smiles as he catches Blaise hopelessly cornering a flushed Neville by the fireplace. He spots a few seventh years trying to get Hermione to drink what he could only guess was firewhiskey. Ron is dancing horribly with a few Hufflepuffs. It seems in light of the war, everyone had unconsciously decided the tragedy was over, and all that was left to do was bring each other together again. Draco saw people talking to each other for the first time in years. Everyone is starting to get alone and they’ve only been in school for a few days.

Draco has yet to spot the golden boy when Theo approaches him and hands him some firewhiskey in a red plastic cup. “Looking for someone special, are ya Draco?” He pokes.

“Not particularly. Looking for your next one-night?” The blonde fires back with a smile that slowly fades as he begins to feel someone watching him.

Theo puts a hand over his heart and dramatically sighs, pulling Draco’s attention away from the eerie feeling. “How could you think so ill of me? I am a gentleman, I’ll have you know.” Just after finishing his sentence, he watches a seventh-year Ravenclaw wink at him from across the dance floor.

“Right. Why don’t you go ask Luna to introduce you as the gentleman we all know you to be to that Ravenclaw and leave me to my own devices?” Draco chuckles at his friend before continuing to glance around the room.

“I knew there was a reason I kept you around, Dray. Say hello to Potter for me.” Theo manages to get out before he stumbles in Luna’s direction.

Draco sips his drink carefully surveying the room, ignoring Theo’s comment about the Saviour. Pansy has made her way to Hermione. Both clearly dressed to get the others' attention. Hermione wore a simple sweater and skirt combination but made it an effort to match the colors to Pansy’s favorites. The other dressed in a simple black tank top with muggle style jean shorts. A leather jacket lay over her shoulders lazily. Both women looked amazing, but Draco’s eyes continued to drift over the small crowd trying to find his slightly infuriating rival. He could only assume the strange feeling of being watched could be tied back to the man. Draco had become accustomed to his stares over the last seven years.

However, Harry is having more luck than Draco in this regard. Almost immediately upon his arrival, Harry noticed the two Slytherin men hanging by the stairs. He hadn’t planned to stare at the bare skin of Malfoy’s chest or aknowledge the way he looked... less hideous than normal in muggle clothes. Harry was having a hard time keeping up a conversation with a very red-faced Neville and a smug-looking Blaise. He sat on a red bean bag as the other two kept up a conversation about classes and who they thought would catch Harry’s eye by the end of the night. Harry couldn’t care less about who they decided he should be trying to shag. He knew would be left alone as soon as he could sneak away without ‘Mione seeing him.

“-Maybe it’ll be Malfoy?” Neville’s voice cuts through Harry’s thoughts like a blade.

Immediately his face turns red and he tries to sputter out a response. “What? No- I mean. I’m not gay. And- Well, he’s Malfoy. My, er… arch-”

“Cut the shit, Potter. I was at those same muggle gay bars as you after the war. I’ve seen you nearly being shagged in an alley. But it seems like the lot of us eights years fancy the same sex. And what’s wrong with my boy, Draco? He didn’t try to hex you again did he? We’ve had conversations about that, I can talk to him again if you’d like me to.” Blaise pipes in, sounding a bit concerned by the end of his small rant.

Harry sighs deeply. His secret sure as hell didn’t stay a secret for long, even if he was in muggle London when he was first experimenting. Ignoring any comment about his roommate, he manages to mumble, “You… I- Is it obvious?” He finally stood up and actually looked at both Blaise and Nev for the first time tonight.

Blaise casually drapes his arm around Nev and both men give Harry a very long once over. Harry tries to look anywhere else but at the pair and eventually catches Draco smirking in his direction. He rolls his eyes again and clearly turns a bit red when the man winks at him. Draco seems determined to hold eye contact as long as possible but Harry was starting to get nervous under his intense gaze. He turns his attention back to Blaise and Neville who had barely made it past his face. After probably about a full minute of this (partly due to Neville trying to get out of his roommate’s arms), Blaise finally speaks. “Yes, but also no. You could pass off as straight but you stare at my mate too much and something about your hair man. It just looks like you were shagged by a man in an alleyway.”

Neville just nods and laughs loudly causing Harry to ignore his own embarrassment and laugh with him.

“That was one time Blaise! My hair looks normal. And last time I checked, I wasn’t staring at Theo or any of your friends for that matter.” Harry smiles as he finally calms his laughter.

Over the loud music and the chatting teens, Harry didn’t hear the footsteps behind him. The oblivious man didn’t even notice Neville staring at the space just over his shoulder.

Blaise just started laughing loudly and asking, “So you weren’t staring at Draco and blushing just a few minutes ago?”

Harry turns slightly red again but continues to deny the accusation. “Of course not. I haven’t seen Malfoy at all tonight. The bloke is still probably getting ready…” He tried to reason but only remembered Draco’s comment. The man had been right. He most certainly found it hard to stop staring at him. He shakes his head as if it would despell the thought out of his mind. “And besides, Draco hates parties as Pansy said, he probably ditched already if he was here.”

Blaise continues to laugh and Neville follows suit. Both are clutching their stomachs and trying to catch their breath.

“Seriously you two, I don’t understand why you think I would be looking at him. He hates me and I… Okay why are you two still-”

Harry was about to ask what was so funny, he felt a warm pressure against his back. The pressure is only there briefly but it’s enough to silence him. Without warning, he is pulled against a hard chest. A tattooed forearm snakes its way around his waist in a matter of seconds and pulls him against the owner. Hot lips pressed against the shell of his right ear. He could feel the stranger smirking as Harry freezes up.

“Are you sure you haven’t seen me, Harry?” Draco whispers, pulling Harry’s body closer to his own, his arse fitting perfectly against the blonde’s hips. He tries to ignore his own nervous feelings. He was only messing with Potter, right? Only trying to get a rise out of him, as always.

Hot breath makes Harry shiver, momentarily stunning him. Once he regains his senses, he pushes Draco’s arm off his waist and puts some much-needed distance between them. Draco just ends up laughing along with Blaise.

Harry, still flushed and confused, turns to glare at the blonde but his eyes don’t stay on Draco’s face for long. Slowly trailing down Draco’s pale chest, their previous… encounter had left much more exposed somehow. Harry could feel his face getting hotter at the impulsive thoughts that told him to reach out and touch his rival in a way that was not appropriate for people who hated each other. Draco took a step closer to Harry and smugly took in the others' appearance. His red face combined with his wild hair and parted lips, Draco just wanted to-

“For rivals, you two are quite close now. House unity, I suppose. But the others told me to gather you two. We’re going to play truth or dare. Hermione and Pansy insist you play.” Luna pops up to say only before skipping away toward the youngest Weasley.

As if a bucket of ice water had been thrown on the pair, they step away from each other looking quite horrified. Harry walks to the far end of the circle with Hermione and Ron, leaving Draco questioning what the hell he just did as he walks toward Blaise and Theo.

Harry huffs and adds another mental rule to his growing list. Draco somehow comes to a similar conclusion.

Rule 7. If You Can’t Hate Him, Learn Self-Control.

Notes:

I'm not dead, hello!! I will try to update weekly now. I actually really like this story again so I'll try to write more.

as always, thank you for commenting and letting me know what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcomed.

Chapter 7: Truth or Dare, Scar Head?

Summary:

Rule 8. Never Snog Your Enemy.

“Thank you two for finally joining us.” Pansy glares at the two boys who just sat down on the only bean bags left. “Now as we were explaining, you all have a shot of firewhiskey in front of you, before we start, you have to drink it.” Pansy reaches for her own and Hermione does the same, promptly encouraging everyone to take their shot.

Most of the returning Slytherins took their shot without flinching at the burning feeling the liquid causes as it trickles down their throats. Some of the Ravenclaw students took their shots with a blank expressions on their faces too. But not the Gryffindors, or not all of them. Neville coughs hysterically and Harryscrews up his face (after being the last one to hesitantly take the shot). Hermione surprises everyone and doesn’t flinch at all.

“That was a bit surprising. I expected most of the Ravenclaws to cough. And Granger, my my. Broke the rules a bit more than we know, have you?” Theo chuckles.

Hermione blushes deeply and mumbles, “Studying all the time can be a bit stressful.”

Luna nods in agreement. “Oftentimes, us Ravenclaw students would have a glass or two to try and relax after big exams. Or some of us liked to take a shot after long study sessions.”

“Well, that’s not something I would have guessed. But at least I know the Veritaserum is working. Yeah yeah yeah, your shots were spiked, but now that we know we can’t lie, we can continue with the rules.” Pansy smirks, talking over the groans of protest from the other side of the circle where mostly Gryfinndors sat.

“I will spin the bottle to see who goes first. You can’t go back and forth with the same person and do try to ask someone who hasn’t been asked yet.” Hermione smiles like a kid in a candy store. Harry thought, she’s far too excited about this game.

“And, we are playing Slytherin style. Nothing is off-limits and if you can’t complete your task like the cowards I know you all to be, then you forfeit the game and perhaps lose your dignity as well. Any questions? No? Good. Hermione, do the honors.” Pansy adds and gestures for Hermione to spin the empty bottle of firewhiskey.

Hermione spins the bottle and everyone watches with intensity, trying to decipher who the bottle will land on. Draco tries to act indifferent about everything going on around him, but he is also watching the glass bottle in the middle of the circle with nervousness hidden behind his eyes. He didn’t want to be asked questions about the war and he had a feeling some of the others were curious as to just what happened in their sixth year. Not that the daily prophet hadn’t tried to speculate what really went on at the Manor these last few years.

The bottle comes to a stop, pointing at a nearly drunk Seamus. The man smiles lazily and looks around the circle maliciously. His thick accent cuts through the silence, “Justin, Truth or Dare mate?”

The Hufflepuff sighs, “Truth.” Harry could have sworn he heard someone that sounded suspiciously like Malfoy call Justin a coward.

“Is it true you lot,” he points to the Hufflepuffs in the room, “used to smoke those leaves that are supposed to make you high on joy in your common room? I can’t be bothered to remember the name of it.”

Justin’s cheeks tint pink as he laughs lightly, “Yeah, most of us did at least. It’s actually a really cool high. And we’re closest to the kitchens so it’s easy to get supplies to make edibles since some of us don’t like to actually smoke it.”

The group laughs slightly and some start asking the other Hufflepuff more about the magical herb. Justin asks Ron, who was currently talking about how Fred and George have someone similar in their joke shop.

“What? Oh, um… Dare.” Harry smiles at his friend. A dare from a Hufflepuff can’t be that bad.

Parkinson leans over and whispers in Justin’s ear. Harry winces. A dare from a Slytherin, well that could be bad. The man smiles smugly at the redhead across the room. “I dare you to go ask Professor McGonagall what the secret to a healthy relationship is.”

Ron turns the color of his hair, taking another shot as his friends laugh and start pushing him. Harry shoves him up toward the door with a smile on his face that Draco definitely does not want to be directed at him someday.

“Try not to get in too much trouble, Won-Won.” Harry jokes, making Lavender Brown roll her eyes fondly at old memories from across the room.

“Oh piss off, Harry.”

Between laughs, Hermione says, “Ronnie, you have to ask someone before you leave so we can keep playing while we wait.”

“Fine. Malfoy, Truth or dare?”

Draco, slightly shocked at being chosen this early in the game, mumbles a quick truth before realizing his mistake. Ron smirks.

“I’ve always been curious, why did you throw Harry the wand after you realized he was still alive?”

Fuck. This was what Draco was trying to avoid. He couldn’t lie and now he had an entire room of people staring at him in silence, awaiting his answer. Harry is staring directly at him, he wants to know the answer to the question more than anyone else. If it hadn’t been for Malfoy, he would never have been able to defeat that blood-supremacist-ego-maniac, or it would have been a bit harder at the end of the battle. The pain started to erupt within him and he winced. The Veritaserum was taking its effect. Sighing and glaring daggers at the curious redhead, he finally allowed the truth to spill from his lips.

“I had to. I wanted Harry to defeat the Dark Lord just as much as anyone else. If he had accomplished what he was trying to, I would not be alive. Not to mention I owe Potter at least two life debts. And, sadly, I had a feeling that with the Elder wand, he would be able to accomplish that goal considering the wand listened to him at that point in time. You know weasel, there are reasons behind why people did what they did during the war. You would be wise to learn that some of them are best to remain unknown.” Draco spat the words as if they were venom on his tongue, Harry’s name practically was dripping with animosity from the blonde’s lips.

Harry just blinks at the blonde. He knew Draco had been cleared of all charges and that he refused to identify him at the Manor, but he still took the dark mark willingly. But he wanted Harry to succeed? Harry couldn’t understand why he thought he owed Harry his life either, especially not two life debts.

Ron stomps out of the room, leaving an awkward silence behind. Draco breaks the tension by quickly finishing his glass of firewhiskey and pointedly looking at Harry. “How about the Saviour of the Wizarding World, hm? Truth or Dare, scar head?”

Harry takes another shot and he feels anger bubbling up inside his chest. “That was an uncharacteristically school-yard insult, Malfoy. Truth”

“Too scared to choose a dare, Potter? How pathetic.” Draco snaps.

“Maybe I am, but would it make you feel better if I changed my choice to Dare?”

Pansy and Hermione watched the pair with interest, something was about to happen, they thought. The Veritaserum caused Draco to answer Harry’s question honestly.

“Yes, now I dare you to snog the person in the room you last fantasized about.” His eyes now glint silver as he stares at green ones across the circle. He was desperate to get the attention off of himself and to get back at the man in front of him for his best friend’s invasive question.

Harry panics, closes his eyes, and remembers the dream he had a few days ago (after his fight with none other than Draco Malfoy). He thought hard, trying to think of anything else other than that dream, anyone other than Draco Malfoy. There had to be someone else he had thought about in that way. Anyone else.

“Fuck, Harry! You’re being so good for me.” Draco had moaned as he continued to pound into the man. His rings were digging into Harry’s throat as he whimpered for the blonde to go faster. Sweat coated both men as they both chased their highs. Harry moaned, unable to get out any words. Draco somehow picked up his speed and began quickly stroking Harry’s-

Harry blushes and shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He couldn’t go up to someone random, the Veritaserum would know he was lying and just cause him pain. But if he stood directly in front of his roommate, he would surely have to deal with more consequences. He could forfeit the game, but then he would lose his pride and that didn’t seem like a very Gryffindor option. He had to kiss ex-Death Eater, Draco Malfoy, his sworn enemy.

“How long do I have to snog this person?” He asks with a clenched jaw, trying to stall for more time.

“One minute.” Draco smirks, unknowing the pending embarrassment he has just inflicted on himself.

Sighing he stands up and closes his eyes tightly. He tosses his glasses to a giggling Hermione and allows his feet to take him, unwillingly, to the patch of floor directly in front of Draco. Harry might not be able to see very well but he could still see a range of emotion crossed the blonde’s face. From shock to completely horrified to slight smugness, back to completely terrified. He kneels down mere inches in front of his rival.

“Well, this was unexpected. Hermione, you owe me five galleons.” Pansy spoke to break the tension. “But Potter, I have to wonder what the last fantasy you had was if it included my dear friend.”

Hermione groans and hands over the coins to Pansy who is still smirking. Meanwhile, Draco finally finds his voice again. “I was going to ask the same thing. What was your last fantasy, Potter?” He said with a hint of anger and curiosity.

Harry grit his teeth, fighting against the Veritaserum to no avail. He hisses in pain and nearly falls on top of Draco, breathing heavily (Draco only raises an eyebrow at that). “My last fantasy did not include this prick.” He says, shoving Malfoy’s shoulder. “It was about this red-head man who taught me about dragons and fucked me during the war. Satisfied?” He admits without mentioning this is what he thought about in order to get a certain blonde out of his head. He looks pointedly at Pansy.

(Ginny cringes and mumbles something to Luna about the man, soundly a lot like one of her brothers…)

“Yes, but I do believe you have a dare to complete, Potty.”

“Really, we’re bringing that name back? And are you two seriously betting on me?” Harry fires back, ignoring the burning feeling on the side of his face that was beyond a doubt Draco staring at him.

“Yes, we’re bringing back nicknames. And no, actually we’re betting on-”

“Oh bloody hell, get on with it.” A drunk Dean shouts from across the room.

Harry rolls his eyes and looks back to Draco who is staring at him intently. He hadn’t said much to Harry since he gave him the dare, but his mind was going wild. He did not intend for the dare to turn out like this. It was supposed to embarrass the bloke, not cause whatever the hell this was. He couldn’t deny that the man was attractive, but he still didn’t expect to snog him in front of his friends and (old) enemies. The two were rivals. Harry hated him. So shouldn’t both of them be completely appalled by the idea of kissing each other?

Finding his voice again, the blonde man raises an eyebrow and plasters a smirk on his face, he says, ”Is the boy who lived scared of kissing me? I mean, I am out of your league but that hasn’t stopped anyone else from trying before.”

Harry’s face burns. Heat begins to creep down his neck. “Don’t tell me you actually want to snog me. I’m sure you’d rather try to strangle me again.”

“Oh trust me, you’re correct, but I’m no coward.” Shaking with anger, Harry pulls Draco up to his knees by his tie. “That’s silk, Potter. Careful.” Draco wets his lips and looks down at the shorter man.

“Still not going to forfeit, Malfoy?” Harry mumbles with merely an inch separating their lips.

“If I don’t see some snogging in thirty seconds you’re both out of the game!” Hermione reminds the pair who are just staring at each other. Harry swallows and tries to loosen his grip on the other's tie. Draco tries not to roll his eyes at the suddenly shy man kneeling in front of him.

The taller man sighs. “I assumed you knew how to kiss someone. Though, I may have overestimated you aga-”

Harry pulls Draco forward, closing the small gap that was between them. Both men awkwardly held their lips together, eyes open, just trying to pass the minute without having to embarrass themselves. A few people were giggling around them and others groaned, making the two roll their eyes. Harry, seemingly more awkward than his counterpart, did not know where to put his hands so he left one wrapped tightly around Draco’s tie and the other held tightly to his side.

Draco begins to get annoyed, if he has to snog this man, then he might as well make it worth it. He closes his eyes and starts to move his lips against Harry. Not so subtlety, the brunette jumps, nearly breaking the kiss. He would have if Draco hadn’t (not so gently, mind you) grabbed his hips, to stabilize him of course. Harry releases the Slytherin tie and rests his hand on Draco’s bare chest, finally closing his eyes and kissing the man back with maybe a little too much vigor. Harry’s hands' tingle above Draco’s warm skin. Their lips move in sync with one another, pushing against each other with built-up emotions from the last seven years. Anger, being the most prevalent emotion that passed between the pair, causes the kiss to change from awkward to heated and intense.

Draco is the first to take control of the kiss by pulling Harry roughly only his lap, crashing their hips together. Harry gasps at the contact, letting Draco slip his tongue into his mouth. Harry groans and fists Draco’s shirt, completely forgetting this was a dare and this was the man he hated most. The pair didn’t hear the wolf whistles or Pansy casually telling them their time was up. Draco’s hands slid down to Harry’s arse, pulling him impossibly closer. Harry moans quietly, forgetting the world around him. The only thing that matters is the soft lips devouring his own and hot pale skin beneath his curious fingertips.

Draco smirks as his rival moans against his lips. He didn’t expect kissing the boy who lived to be this… entertaining. Yes, Harry Potter is an attractive bloke. But he hadn’t expected him to actually be experienced. He knew exactly what he was doing to Draco. He had to, right? Harry ran his hands over his chest cautiously, nervously even. Draco’s breathing instantly gets heavier and he presses harder into Harry. Harry rolls his hips against the blondes and whimpers when Draco moans into his mouth.

“BLOODY FUCKING HELL, MY EYES! WHAT DID I MISS?” Ron yells as he walks back into the common room after completing his dare (and earning a week's detention).

Harry pushes himself off Draco as if he were on fire. He stares at the man in front of him. Puffy, wet lips, wide eyes, messy hair, and a shirt that is barely on anymore. Draco has a mixture of lust and confusion in his eyes as he looks down at the man over him. Harry flushed deeply, his wild hair looking worse than before and his clothes were more messed up than usual. He awkwardly shuffles back to his seat on the floor by his friends.

An unspoken rule should have been known between the pair.

Rule 8. Never Snog Your Enemy.

“That was hot.” Seamus blurts out, causing the Slytherin to flush a light shade of pink as well.

Harry clears his throat and looks at the empty bottle in the center of the room. “Um… Theo, truth or dare?”

Notes:

Thank you so much for 100 Kudos!!!!!

I will try to keep this updated as much as I can.

Chapter 8: Harry Potter and His Royal Fuck-up

Summary:

Rule 9. Your Enemy IS Human (And It's Time To Belive It).

Notes:

I'm running out of chapter titles, guys. comment ideas???

Chapter 8- Harry Potter and his royal fuck up

The game continues with the dares and questions getting more and more personal and extravagant. Lavender and Justin were still locked in a broom cupboard somewhere playing a game of seven minutes in heaven that turned into a few hours of bliss. Ron had to admit that he ended things with Hermione after she realized she was actually a lesbian. This Ravenclaw seventh year had to sit on Ron’s lap for the rest of the game and Pansy was somehow topless. No one remembered if that was actually a dare she had received or not.

Despite witnessing these humiliating acts, Draco was relieved, to say the least. He hasn't been questioned any further about the war and Harry hasn’t been involved in his dares. Sadly, this meant both men had a lot more time to think about the kiss and what it meant. Harry is busy convincing himself he didn’t actually do anything out of the ordinary for a dare, but he’s having a lot of trouble believing it. Especially when he can still feel large hands gripping his hips and soft lips devouring his own. Draco isn’t any better off. He determines, after much deliberation, that he might, in fact, not hate Harry bloody Potter as much as he thought but he must have been just caught up in the moment. The mere second he made this discovery his name was called across the circle.

“Draco Darling! Truth or dare?” Pansy slurs, drawing out the blonde’s name longer than necessary.

“Truth.” He didn’t want to gamble on asking for a dare from a mildly drunk Pansy. He had to learn that one the hard way. He shivers at the memory and definitely not the look Pansy was giving him.

Pansy rolls her eyes but smiles nonetheless. “Here’s an easy one. What’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever done to impress someone?” A few people giggle or groan at the simple question.

Draco’s cheeks tint pink (from the alcohol, definitely) and the Veritaserum forces out his embarrassing answer to the easy question. “Climbed a tree.” Pansy starts laughing loudly and Hermione giggles at Harry about the Triwizard Tournament. Draco clears his throat, surprised at the answer himself. He rubs his face, beginning to get tired of unintentionally embarrassing himself tonight. How was he supposed to know he was trying to impress someone when he was trying to make fun of Potter? Draco didn’t even realize…

“How didn’t I realize it sooner!?” Theo shouts and starts laughing hysterically, clenching his stomach. “Seven years and a bloody war! And I never noticed!”

“Sod off, Nott. Let’s just move on, shall we?” Draco mumbles, taking another sip of his whiskey. He might be tipsy at the moment but it seems best to ignore that along with the other realizations he had been having this evening. “What’ll it be, Longbottom? Truth or Dare?”

“Oh, dare.” Neville burps, clearly intoxicated.

Draco smirks over at his fellow Slytherin. “Why don’t you take my friend here and play seven minutes in hell, or whatever you call that muggle game?” He says as he claps Blaise on the back.

Both men stumble off toward the boys’ dormitories leaving the rest of the group to engage in playful banter until they return. After about ten minutes, the pair stumbles down the stairs laughing lightly and looking absolutely hammered. Neville was missing his tie completely and somewhere along the way, Blaise seems to have lost his belt and left shoe.

“Well, it looks like you two had fun.” Pansy chimes into the conversation for the first time in a while.

“We did. Truth or Dare, Harry?” Neville smiles and sits down on Blaise’s lap.

“Truth,” Harry mumbles near the staircase. He was so close to escaping, but of course, Neville noticed.

“Why’d you used to mumble about Malfoy in your sleep in third year?”

Harry decides Neville was far too drunk to be playing this game. How can he remember that far back and be this plastered? Harry leans against the cool stone wall and clears his throat. “I… well… Malfoy is a right bloody git. But he isn’t exactly ugly, especially when he plays Quidditch. And I would have nightmares and sometimes he was in them. I mean- He was a bloody death eater a few years later so…” Harry’s voice trails off and his eyes risk a glance at Malfoy.

The blonde’s face is completely void of any emotion. The same expression he learned to display all those years ago. Behind his emotionless mask, he almost felt hurt. He thought he could get past this. He should have known better than that. He gracefully stood up from his sitting position on the floor and strode over to Harry. He only stops once he is cornering the shorter man against his spot on the wall. He doesn’t allow himself to touch the man (both men being too intoxicated for Draco’s liking) but cages him between his arms instead. He cranes his neck down so his breath gently caresses Harry’s neck. The room falls silent aside from a few drunken giggles. Harry warily, looks down between the two. Draco isn’t even touching him but he found it hard to concentrate and remember just who they both were. If it hadn’t been for the alcohol in his system, he’s sure he wouldn’t be wanting Malfoy to close the distance between them and touch him.

It had only been a few seconds before Draco spoke. His voice was somehow deeper than Harry remembered. “Fuck you, Harry.” For some reason, Draco is having a hard time deciding if he should risk another fight with Potter over that comment. He quickly pushes that thought from his mind, he made his decision to become what he was, he had to live with the consequences.

Draco pushes himself off the wall and turns to address the group but before he could speak, Harry mumbles with tinted cheeks, “Fuck me yourself, coward.”

Draco tilts his head, maintaining his blank expression except for a subtle smirk. He turns back to Harry, meeting his gaze. “Ask nicely and I may just consider it.”

Draco turns and walks up to their dorm, less angry than he should have been. He’d contribute it to the alcohol in the morning. Harry, on the other hand, stares blankly at the spot where the blonde stood.

Even though Hermione and Pansy were quite drunk, they still notice the events taking place and share a knowing smile.

“What’s that muggle saying, Granger?” Blaise asks. “Drunk words, sober thoughts?’

Hermione nods with a yawn. Harry seems to snap out of whatever trance he was in. He gives his best glare to the group before stumbling up the stairs, drunker than he realized.

“And on that note,” Pansy laughs, “I say we end the night here. Go to bed, you sluts.”

----

If there is one thing these young adults will learn at Hogwarts, it’s that a party should never be held without hangover potions prepared prior. Luckily for Harry, Hermione was Hermione and made a few extras for those who forgot. The potions did wonders but Harry is still not feeling the best. He found his roommate passed out when he finally got to their dorm last night and he was gone when he woke up. He hadn’t seen Malfoy all day.

“I mean, seriously Ron, where could he have gone? This school isn’t that bloody big and he hasn’t shown up for a single meal yet and it’s half past one. Malfoy can’t-”

“For the love of Merlin, Harry. Use the damn Map to stalk your boyfriend. I think I’d rather throw myself off the astronomy tower than hear the word ‘Malfoy’ one more time.” Ron groans from his position on the couch in the common room, covering his eyes with his arm.

“And it is Saturday. He has a life, Harry.” Hermione adds, not tearing her eyes away from her book.

Harry sighs and glares at Ron. “He’s my rival, Ron. I have to keep a close eye on him.”

“Really? Hasn’t this thing gotten old to you? I get that he’s a fucking twat but it’s been seven years, mate. Seven Bloody Years! I’m starting to agree with Hermione on this one. You should try to be nice to him. You do perfectly fine with the other Slytherins.” Ron mumbles.

Harry hadn’t thought about that. He had spent so much time hating Malfoy that he never really thought about being nice to him, or not insulting him for that matter. Harry shook his head, that was a lie. He HAD thought about what it would be like to have Draco as a friend, but that was first or second year. It has been ages and people grow… People grow? People grow and things can change! Even fucking Draco Malfoy.

Rule 9. Your Enemy IS Human Too (And It’s Time To Believe It).

Hermione glances up from her book to see the flash of recognition cross Harry’s face. “So you finally figured it out? He’s not as bad as he used to be, you know that now. It took you long enough.” She continues to read her book.

“I guess I never…” His voice trails off.

Hermione suddenly slams her book shut as Theo all but crashes through the portrait hole. All eyes turn to his ghost pale face. His hands shake ever so slightly and his eyes are wide with panic.

“It’s Draco. He’s… A group of Sixth years’... Pansy tried to help. They’re in the hospital wing.” He chokes out.

Notes:

Back at it again! let me know what you think! I love hearing what you think of this story and the comments help me to continue being motivated to write.

Hope you enjoyed it!

Chapter 9: Messy Emotional Takeover

Summary:

Rule 10. If You're Going To Avenge Your Enemy, Hide The Evidence.

Madam Pomfrey doesn’t seem too happy with half the eighth year students barging into her infirmary in the middle of the afternoon, not that the young women and few men notice her irritation. Hermione, too focused on trying to get information out of the healer, doesn’t even spot Harry slipping away from the group for only a few moments to retrieve something from his dorm. Harry Potter has never been known to wait around for answers, let alone wait for his friend to stop arguing with a healer. He isn’t sure why he needed to know what happened to the pair of Slytherins, but Harry has never been known to think before he acts either. He simply walks back into the infirmary without anyone paying much attention to him, and casually tosses on his invisibility cloak.

He slips past the two arguing women (Hermione is still pressing Pomfrey with new questions before she can answer the previous ones) and passes each closed curtain, hoping to find what exactly? He isn’t sure he’s ready to admit that to himself just yet. He only knows he’s curious and needs to find the two Slytherin... He can’t call them friends but they are hardly the enemy anymore…

Around the first few curtains (placed after the war for privacy and separation), crisp, clean, and empty beds are the only thing he found. He pauses his steps when he hears a low groan. A nervous tug in his gut pulls him to the source of the sound, directly behind the curtain in front of him. Checking over his shoulder to make sure his classmates and the healer were still distracted, he paces toward the thin, daunting barrier. His quiet footsteps couldn’t be heard over the teenager's concern, making it easier to hide his halting stop when he discovered the first Slytherin. His shoes made a shushed squeal against the polished stone of the infirmary floors that is louder than the blood rushing through his ears.

Pansy lay stiff in the pure white cot, barely any coloration in her face. Dried, rust-colored splotches stain her Slytherin green sweater. Jagged rips tear through her designer skirt and tights, leaving bits of clean bandages peeking out, some slowly pooling with angry red blotches. Her left muggle boot is completely missing. She has clearly been running from something. Tangles and knots riddle her normally perfect hair that now falls messily over her cheeks to frame the fresh bruise on the right side of her jaw. She didn’t look like herself. There is no dramatic confidence or spite in her aura while she’s in this position.

Harry’s breathing catches in his throat as she lets out another groan, louder this time. Harry quickly sidesteps when he hears running toward the curtain. He only begins to breathe again when Pomfrey quickly performs some more healing spells, causing most of the smaller scraps and bruises on her knees and arms to heal. Color rises to her face again, she’s alive.

Harry didn’t have time to question the relief he felt at learning Pansy was still alive because Hermione came rushing past him, nearly knocking him off his feet. He stumbles through the curtain on his right, somehow only attracting the attention of Ron, who doesn’t think anything of it. He catches his balance on the end of the cot, which happens to be occupied. His hand jerks off the end of the cot as if it caught fire. He can’t stop the gasp he made or the red haze that slowly seeps into his vision.

Draco Malfoy is awkwardly lounging against a stack of pillows, eyes shut tight as he winces. His blonde hair is looking rather sandy now. Thick strains, slick with fresh blood, stick to his forehead. His lip is cut and there’s blood dripping off the end of his nose, Harry notices while clenching his jaw. His shirt lay in shreds across his torso which isn’t in much better shape. His dirt-clad palm pressed against his left side. A battered set of robes are dropped carelessly over the foot of the bed. With his other arm painfully bent in an odd direction and various smoking holes in expensive trousers, Harry should have been happy to see his enemy in such a compromising position. He isn’t. No, he most definitely is not. Slowly the pressure the blonde is applying to his side eases up and the tension in his face starts to fall. A tear rolls down the injured man’s face, only furthering Harry’s mixture of emotions.

Harry takes a few steps closer to the cot and drops the cloak around himself just to wipe the tear from the corner of Draco’s eye. “Who did this to you?” He whispers.

Hermione’s sobbing drags the man’s attention to the other side of the curtain, again, he jerks his hand away from the cot as if he, himself, was the one burned.

“Oh, Merlin! Pansy… I thought… you looked so….” Half of what she said is rushed and unclear with the mixture of hiccups and gasping breaths.

A weak voice answered calmly, but quickly. “I’m fine, Granger. But Draco needs Pomfrey now. After,” She pauses to cough and clear her throat. “After that Robinson kid decided to hit him with another blood boiling curse, I stepped in and,” She sniffs, every word coming out in a rush of breath. “And he refused to do anything. He just stood there and took it. I tried to stop them, I really did! B-But I-I…” She’s crying too hard now. Hermione tries to comfort her through her own tears but Harry has already heard enough.

He wraps the cloak tighter around himself and briskly walks out of the room. The last thing he hears that sends him over the edge is Pomfrey’s low murmur.

“He made me treat Pansy first. He refused any treatment until she was stable. If you’ll excuse me, I need to treat him now before...”

Harry rushes out the door, white-hot anger- no. Rage. White, hot, rage seething through his skin.

-----------

If there is one thing that the Dursleys taught Harry, Dudley specifically, it is that a lot can be accomplished by using the Muggle Way of handling aggression. It’s safe to say, he had learned a lot from Dudley’s beatings over the years, Veron’s too.

As much as he would have preferred to keep this year “normal” and avoiding “trouble” in hindsight, his emotions tended to make that decision for him. He was only supposed to be going to his dorm to put away the invisibility cloak then he’d head back to the hospital wing to check on how his friends were handling everything. But before he can register where he is and what he’s doing, he’s rushing into the Hufflepuff common room with one thing in mind. The students seem startled at his entrance and think twice about getting in his way.

“Robinson!” He shouts, pacing up to the lounging boy on the couch near the stairs.

“Oh, Hey, Harr-” The boy’s head flies backward and blood starts gushing out of his nose. His eyes start to water and he stands up to meet his attacker. A few people leave the room others just jump up and stare.

“I taught you those spells as a form of defense!” Harry yells and pushes him to the ground. He hits the floor with a thud and scrambles backward.

“Harry! I swear I-”

“I taught you to DEFEND yourself, you absolute prick!” He delivers a swift kick to the sixteen-year-old’s side. He turns in on himself, curling into a ball, barely able to wheeze out a plea for Harry just to talk to him. Harry’s glasses are askew and his face is red. Sweat begins to gather beneath the hair that covers his forehead.

“Yet, you use a Blood Boiling spell on someone who wasn’t even attacking you. Tell me I’ve gone bloody mad and you didn’t?” Harry kneels down, gripping a fist full of his sandy brown hair. Robinson doesn’t open his mouth to speak but looks up with guilt clouding the fear in his eyes for a moment. Pulling the boy closer to him, he spits, “You make me fucking sick.”

For good measure, he lands one last punch across his jaw (the knock-out point as Dudley called it). Dropping the now unconscious boy’s body onto the stone floor, he stands and turns to the rest of the common room.

“Who, the FUCK, else decided to join in on an attack on two Slytherin seventh years, one of which who didn’t defend themselves?” When there is no reply, he storms out of the room. Only then does he begin to feel the aching in his right hand and ankle.

He takes a few deep breaths but doesn’t stop making his way back to the hospital wing. He tries to clear his head enough to make himself look presentable but to no avail. He fixes his glasses and straightens his t-shirt and jeans. After avoiding strange looks in the corridors, he bursts through the doors. All his friends are aware of his presents now, standing over the two cots.

He turns to Madam Pomfrey, ignoring her startled look. “Ma’am, I just heard there is some unconscious Hufflepuff in their common room. If you’re finished with Dr- Malfoy, you may, erm, want to check on him. It doesn’t sound like he’ll be able to make it to the infirmary.”

“Oh, dear.” This is her only response before she grabs her wand and exits the room.

The eighth years just stare at Harry with blank expressions.

“What?” He questions.

“Um… You’re hand, Harry.” Theo slowly points out, shock taking over his expression.

“And shirt. Damn Potter, you might have a bit more Slytherin in you than I thought.” Pansy chimes in, her face still a bit red and puffy, but other than that she looks much healthier.

“My wha- oh.” Harry stares at his right hand that is currently dripping blood onto his stone by his feet. His red shirt is splattered with dark spots. He looks a little sheepish but shakes his head. “I wonder how that happened…” He nervously laughs.

“Well, if everything is all good here, I’ll be going. I hope you feel better, Pansy. And Malfoy if he wakes up.” And with that, he left without turning back.

Rule 10. If You’re Going To Avenge Your Enemy, Hide The Evidence.

Malfoy opens his eyes as the door slams shut behind Harry.

“Oh for Salazar’s sake, tell me you saw that, Dray?” Blaise pleads.

“I heard Harry leave. I assume you’re going to tell me anyway, so care to get on with it? Pomfrey gave me a sleeping draught.” Draco’s voice is dry and raspy, but he no longer winces in pain when breathing.

Pansy too enthusiastically fills him in on what she saw and what most likely happened. Shouldn’t she have had a sleeping draught too? Soon the other eighth years flow out of the room to get ready for dinner leaving Draco with much to think about.

Notes:

Would you look at that? I updated. Please feel free to comment on what you think and what you think will happen.

Also Updates might be slower than usual because I am in college (for nursing) at the moment.

As always, I love your comments and They make me want to Write more so please comment and I hope you have a good day :)

Chapter 10: Friendship Disguised in Rivalry

Summary:

Rule 11. Chase After Your Enemy. You’ll Know Where He’ll Hide.

Draco is held up in the infirmary for observation overnight and only when Pansy (and Hermione) promised Madam Pomfrey they would look after him, was he allowed attending breakfast this morning. He still has a lot on his mind after yesterday’s events. Word travels fast at Hogwarts and he is not looking forward to the disgusted stares and pity gazes he would be getting when he walked into the great hall. He stops a few feet from the entrance with Hermione and Pansy.

“C’mon Dray, it’s nothing we haven’t faced before.” Pansy tries to be comforting but this was a feeling she knew all too well, and Draco knew it.

Hermione steps in front of Pansy looking past her at the sulking Malfoy. He healed nicely, but some bruises were left to heal on their own upon his own request. (Leaving the heavy marks on his pale skin is his way of showing that he knew he deserved a small amount of what was dished out to him, but he knew better to believe he deserved all that was thrown his way.) The look in her eyes isn’t full of pity like Draco expects, but a strange determination. “Try to be a little more optimistic, Pans. I don’t think it will be as bad as you both think. And I’m not just saying this because I’m in Gryffindor. If I’m right, Draco, then you won’t have any more issues this year. Not if I have anything to say about it. And I think a few more eighth years are standing alongside you both know. We are not pitying you, we are not protecting you, we are with you. At the very least, I am with you. I might not understand how you’re feeling, but I can try my best to.”

Pansy smiles a bit at the woman in front of her as Draco turns her words over in his mind looking for some point of insincerity, but neglects to find any. He nods subtly to the witch, allowing himself to believe her kind words.

“Thank you, Miss Granger. I do believe you are correct about another Gryffindor standing with Draco. Perhaps,” she pauses and slightly leans on Draco’s shoulder, careful to avoid further injury on either of their parts, “A certain Gryffindor, with- how did you put it Draco? Stupid hair, and his stupid glasses, and- “

Draco takes a step forward and rolls his eyes. He straightens his posture and stands tall. “It looks like you’re back to your old, vexing self, Pansy. Are you two ready to go in now?”

“We’ve all been ready, you git.” Theo walks past the group with Blaise, munching on an apple.

“Come on, you two, we don’t want to miss breakfast or be late to class!” Hermione stresses while looking at a muggle wristwatch. She gently nudges both Slytherin and walks a few steps ahead of them.

Pansy rolls her eyes with a grin plastered to her lips. Taking hold of Draco’s wrist, she pulls him into the threshold of the great hall.

There isn’t the attention-stopping silence you read about in novels, no one even glances up at the young people walking into the room. No one seems to notice them. Or care really. Like the two former death eaters that were attacked less than two days ago weren’t walking into a crowded place. Draco is a bit relieved, to say the least, but keeps his guard up nonetheless. Pansy walks a little faster to catch up with Hermione and acts as though today is just another day.

The group takes a seat at their table and begins the conversation as normal. Draco shifts uncomfortably, it’s as though Voldemort himself is standing in the room and everyone is ignoring it. Hermione is trying to engage Ron in conversation about Blaise and Neville’s new relationship, while Pansy is staring hopelessly at the girl next to her, trying to get her attention. Theo seems only interested in his food, something he and his roommate seem to have in common. Finally, Draco’s eyes land on Harry, who is silently picking at the scabs on both his hands. Small beads of blood pool to the surface of the knuckles on his right hand. Harry just stares at it mindlessly with a blank expression, not stopping his scratching. Surely something was on his mind that caused him to not realize he was bleeding now. Why didn’t he heal his hands anyway? If what Pansy said was true, why wouldn’t he heal himself? There is no possible reason he would want people to know what he had done. He’s the famous golden boy. Though, he hasn’t exactly been predictable in his impulsive behavior lately, has he? Draco briefly gets a flashback to the kiss they shared before quickly pushing it to the back of his mind.

As Harry continued to pick at the scabs, more red liquid began to run down his hand. Draco finally speaks.

“Potter.” Harry’s head shoots up quickly with an expression of surprise on his face. A neutral expression quickly took over.

“You’re bleeding,” Draco says softly. Caution filled his voice. No one other than the Slytherins knew he was capable of such concern.

Harry looks down slowly at the back of his hands, a few drops of blood now on the table cloth. Without saying a word of acknowledgment, he stands up and quickly walks out of the hall, not bothering to stop the sticky red streams flowing out of his knuckles.

A few of the eighth years’ look toward Draco as to question what happened to Harry, but no one says anything. They resume their conversations, ignoring the tension growing rapidly between the young adults. Draco might be used to the tension during meal times but it wasn’t anything like this. This was suffocating. His supposed new friends were not asking him if he was alright or accusing him of pissing off Harry. They aren’t pitying him either, it was just plain avoidance on the subject of his injuries and on Saint Potter’s disappearance. The air felt thinking and after a few minutes, the blonde snapped.

“Can someone please tell me what in the bloody hell is going on? Did he really threaten those Hufflepuffs? Pans, I thought you were having me on, but why were his hands scaly and still bleeding? Why didn’t- “ Draco pauses his desperate line of questioning as Luna takes Harry’s spot across from him.

“Pansy wasn’t lying to you, Draco. Harry is a loyal friend, but he can get a little carried away sometimes. He lectured the Ravenclaw students too. And I saw him with a group of Gryffindor students in Gin’s common room. He seems deeply affected by the people treating Pansy and you the way they did.” She smiles affectionately at the group around her. “He is lucky to have you guys. But especially you Draco. His wrackspurts have grown in numbers since the party.”

“Thank you for telling me. Luna. But, you may be wrong about the last part. I haven’t spoken to Harry since the party.” Draco answers her calmly now.

“Precisely. He doesn;t seem happy about that nor does it seem to have decreased his wrackspurts. You’d better go after him. He can’t heal himself because he can’t think clearly enough to cast the spell, Draco.” With that, Luna left their table and went to find Ginny.

Draco sits stiffly for a few moments, processing what he had heard. Potter… Harry actually tried to make his year easier. He tried to stop these attacks, even minor ones from Ravenclaw students? How did he even find out about those ones? And it wasn’t just from him, but for his friends as well. He hadn’t spoken to him recently but he continued to be on his side.

He looks around the table at his friends giving him amused smiles. “But, why would he take the time to threaten all his precious followers?” Draco asks, trying to ease the tension that is woven in his voice. His face screws up at his attempt at a snide joke his younger self would have been proud of.

“How are you seriously the next top student aside from ‘Mione?” Theo mumbles under his breath, taking another bite of toast.

“Maybe, just maybe, the man doesn’t actually hate you,” Neville adds with a small smirk, not looking up from his eggs.

“He just might actually care about you, all of us really,” Blaise smirks, sliding closer to Neville so he could wrap his arm around his waist.

“Or, you are all as oblivious as he is. He’s literally bloody stalked you before. He admitted to dreaming about you after quidditch matches and we’ve all caught him staring at you for a million years now. It’s not a bloody fucking secret mate. Go find him and fix his hands before McGonagall catches him and thinks you two are at it again.” Ron snaps, taking another angry bite of his bacon.

Draco sputters. His mind is reeling at the information he was just told. Harry doesn’t hate him. He cares about him. He wants to help his friends…

Friends?

“What Ron is trying to say is that Harry actually cares about you more than he lets on. And maybe you should go talk to him? We have an hour before class…” Hermione adds, looking at Pansy for help.

“Just go after him, you ponce.” Pansy smiles deviously at Draco who is still stunned to his seat.

“GO!” Various voices shout when he doesn’t move.

Startled, Draco is shoved out of his seat and he stumbles toward the door of the great hall. His friends give him encouraging glances as they send him toward the door.

Rule 11. Chase After Your Enemy. You’ll Know Where He’ll Hide.

Notes:

Please please please tell me what you think and If you have any suggestions for my story or want to directly tell me what you think, my Instagram is october._.skies
As always comment and let me know how you think Draco and Harry are fairing.

Chapter 11: Enemies To… Friends?!

Summary:

Rule 12. Make your enemy your friend (and ignore the urge to kill him).

Chapter 11- Enemies To…. Friends?

Draco passes different halls frantically searching for a place the golden boy might be hiding. Where would Harry Potter go to be alone? Immediately, the prefects bathroom comes to mind, but that thought is quickly pushed out of his mind. Myrtle’s Bathroom doesn’t seem like a place either man would want to revisit. Pausing in the middle of a corridor, he tries to come up with a more plausible explanation. He may have gone to their shared room, however, it doesn’t seem like it would be a good place to clear your head. Especially when you’d be surrounded by the very belongings of the person you’re trying to push from your mind. Merlin, what is Draco doing? Harry clearly wants to be alone. Draco thought twice about turning back to the great hall and ignoring his peers' taunts.

Just as he’s about to turn back he remembers one of the many hidden passages he had to memorize merely a few years ago. He takes a sharp turn toward his old common room and ducks under a hanging tapestry of the Slytherin crest. Luckily, the passage is still there, if only slightly damaged. He walks slowly now, carefully taking the passage until there's barely any light along his path. Cool stone and the absence of light makes him tense at the memories of his sixth year. He places his hand along the rough walks for guidance. Just ahead, should be a window with a nice ledge for reading or thinking. HIs old special getaway. He remembers Hermione complaining to Pansy about how Harry must be using the passages to try and avoid her early study sessions. If there was a nice place in these musky, damp hallways, it would be that small safe haven.

As predicted, Harry sits cross-legged on the ledge of the window, trying to control his breathing. The night before, he had not been back to his dorm room. He was at this spot, trying to control his emotions and heal his hands. It may be easier to say he was trying to sort out his emotions and identify the reason behind his actions. The dull ache in his chest at the mere memory of Draco lying in a hospital bed with so many injuries was a foreign feeling. He didn’t expect the anger to come as quickly and he didn’t plan on hurting the sixth year. And yet? He did. The same people who were supporting him during the war and holding him so highly now either believed him to be delusional or possibly feared him. He made his point clear enough and maybe it would set an example for something better? He doesn’t even know if this is what he wants. It’s clear enough the returning Slytherin students have changed…

He points his wand at his bleeding hands again. His uncombed hair falls into his dull eyes, blocking his line of vision. He sighs loudly, running a bruised and bloodied hand through his hair. He tries the healing charm again, mumbling the incantation under his breath. Frustratingly but not surprisingly, the charm fails again. He groans in disappointment and rests his head (not so gently) against the stone behind him. He has yet to notice the bloke standing a meer six feet from him. Draco is now close enough to hear him uttering to himself…

“Stupid bloody charm… I’m not even angry anymore… why would they make a healing charm that you have to be calm to cast?” Harry mumbles under his breath, still very much “not angry.”

His hair has been looking more disheaveled than usual, Draco observes. Heavy dark rings were forming below his green eyes that were beginning to look a lot more dull than before. They might not have been on speaking terms before the incident but that had only been four or five days ago? Harry hadn’t looked this… rough in quite a while. Draco may have found some sort of pleasure in his misery some years ago but that long vanished when he began to think for himself. Now Draco feels guilt. After all, he is the lone cause for the savior's pain this time. He must be.

At a loss for words at finding him in such a state, Draco reverts back to one way of getting Harry’s attention.

“Is it true?” He says, swallowing hard and taking a step forward into the light of the window.

Still being easily startled, Harry jumps at this and jolts up to face Malfoy. He visibly relaxes and a look of realization takes over his features.

“Oh, it’s just you.” He sighs and goes back to ignoring the bloke like he had at breakfast. He leans against the ledge and stares down at his hands. Draco glances down to find that the bleeding had mostly stopped before continuing where he left off.

Letting out a shaky breath, he asks in a firm voice, “Potter. Is it true you beat the shit out of that hufflepuff? I mean, you actually hit him?”

Harry seems to come out of the daze momentarily and glances up at Draco with a sarcastic smile. He caught his reference to their previous argument before the war. He no sooner glances back down at his hands and starts messing with the scabs forming. He picks it open again in a matter of seconds and curses under his breath. He pushes himself back up onto the ledge and gets ready to try the spell again. Ignoring the main problem to solve another seems to be Harry’s specialty. Blocking out the blonde’s presence, he mumbles the charm again. This time sparks shoot out the end of his wand causing the small cuts to open a bit more. He curses under his breath as Draco sighs and walks toward him.

“You stupid Gryfinndors, with your impulsive bravery and lingering grudges.” He takes Harry’s hands and they fall lax in his gentle grip. Harry’s legs are on either side of Draco’s hips now. Harry stares at Draco, shocked, as he carefully pulls out his wand and starts to inspect the damage. He shakes his head and lets out a sound of disapproval. Without saying a word he wraps his large hands around Harry’s waist and lifts him off the ledge. He grabs the man’s wrist and tugs him through the damp passages. Harry focuses on the passing walls rather than the lingering feeling of Draco’s warm hands gently gripping his waist.

When they come out from behind a statue moments later, they are outside their common room. Draco doesn’t stop walking until they are inside. He only pauses to look around carefully, making sure the room is empty before continuing his silent mission. Harry has enough rumors to worry about at the moment.

Harry stares at Draco’s back in confusion. He somehow finds his voice finally and clears his throat before speaking nervously. “Erm… Why are we in the common room?”

Draco glances over his shoulder before replying without stopping his movement toward their dorm room. He tightens his hold on Harry as if he might run off. “I see you managed to form a complete thought. I’m taking you to our dorm to clean your hands the muggle way. It will make the spellwork easier and reduce scarring.”

Harry sucks in a sharp breath at the mention of their shared room and only begins to process Draco’s loose but firm grip around his slender wrist. The heat from his hand rushes up Harry’s arm, sending tingles of warmth all the way to his pink cheeks.

“Oh.” Harry manages to breath out as he tries to piece together the last couple of days. He knows Draco is going to want some sort of explanation about the current state of his hands and to know if the rumors are true, but he can’t bring himself to explain his actions. Hell, he doesn’t fully understand the reasoning behind his actions to begin with. At least, if he knows any motive for his actions, he won’t admit to it.

Once they reach their dorm, Draco ignores Harry’s side of the room, which is entirely wrecked, and leads him into the bathroom. He drops his wrist, making Harry unconsciously frown, and begins to warm up water in the sink. He doesn’t stop to look at Harry at all, just focuses on taking his hands and gently cleaning the blood off. When his hands are submerged in the water, Harry audibly whimpers in pain. He hadn’t thought to clean his hands since after the initial incident.

“It wouldn’t hurt as much if you had actually cleaned it properly.” Draco murmurs as he runs his fingers over the injury. Rust colored water swirls down the drain.

“Sorry.” Harry says back. “I was a bit preoccupied.”

“Were you? Seems as though no one could find you last night from what I’ve heard. From your reaction at breakfast, I’m sure what I’ve been told is true. If I’m wrong, please let me know now.” Draco pauses for an answer, when he looks at Harry for the first time. The same blank, calloused expression from the night of the party is back, making Harry wince again. “I thought so. And if I am correct, you are far more incompetent than I thought. You obviously have absolutely no sense of self preservation. Just because you ran on impulse and saved us all once doesn’t mean you can be so reckless again. People will begin to talk and-“

Draco pauses and he dries Harry’s hands and shuts the water off. “Do you honestly want to be associated with ex-death eaters? This is your last chance to decide. Pansy and Blaise, even Nott… they have taken quite a liking to you and your friends. But what happened to Pans and I…” he trails off, letting go of the man’s hands and looking directly into his green eyes. “You did not need to threaten anyone. Physically or otherwise. We can handle our own. But thank you, Harry. I’m sorry I put you in the position to begin with.”

Harry pauses and stares at him, trying to find the words to say without setting him off more than he clearly already was. His back is rigid and he is having trouble keeping his tone and breathing even. His eyes are focused on maintaining only eye contact with him. Harry opens his mouth to speak but closes it quickly as Draco suddenly casts the spell, healing his small cuts but leaving the bruises behind.

“I- thank you for helping me with that charm. And if I have learned one thing about you in eight years it’s that you have never once thanked me and you definitely haven’t apologized, until recently, and meant it. But you’re not going to tell me what I should have done. Pansy actually defended herself so she wasn’t as bad as you were but when I saw you I just…” His anger starts to fade now. “No one should be attacked in their school. No one should have to deal with the shit you do just because you’re a Malfoy and made some mistakes. The bloody war is over and people need to realize that. You should have defended yourself. You don’t deserve-“

Harry is cut off but Draco who is looking a bit flushed from anger and embarrassment. “Yes! Yes I do! I understand Hermione has taught you to see the good in everyone but not me. I have done too many things that are unforgivable. I deserve the torment. And you well know I can’t risk defending myself. I may be a far better wizard than those who attacked us but I know better than to risk my probation over something as trivial as-“

Harry, becoming as agitated as Draco, takes a step closer and raises his voice. “Trivial? Trivial!? You were lying half dead and you say you’re such a bad person but you made them treat Pansy first! You let yourself suffer because you think you deserve it but everyone deserves to be safe. To have friends. I… I don’t…” suddenly the lack of distance between the two and the flashback of warm lips and wandering hands causes Harry’s mind to slow. “People listen to me. And I didn’t speak up when I should have directly after the war. I am going to make it easier for you to finish your probation and be able to have a regular year at Hogwarts like everyone else. So I might have let my anger get in the way. When have I thought something through before acting? You and your friends won’t be bothered again. Not unless any of the other eighth years have anything to say about it. I’m sorry you can’t defend yourself, but I'm not trying to save you, either. I know you think I have this savior complex but I really don’t. You don’t need saving. Just some backup, maybe.”

He finishes his small speech, taking a step back. The few inches between them and his stolen glances at the blonde’s pink lips are beginning to make him light headed. Draco looks to be in deep thought. His brows are furrowed and his lips… no. Harry needs to look anywhere else other than the man in front of him. He glances at his hands, only small bruises remain. It did not scar as Draco had promised.

“It seems you’ve become self aware that you act like an impulsive cunt sometimes.” Draco comments with his hand pinching the bridge of his nose. Then, remembering why he came to find Harry in the first place, he sighs. “But I did not come here to argue honestly. I wanted to make sure you were alright. Now I don’t understand why you’d risk your reputation for me or anyone else, but I can admire the strength it took to admit you were acting without thinking. Thank you for trying to help me and the rest of the returning Slytherins. I mean it.”

Draco risks a glance at the others parted lips. It seems Harry is shocked he accepted his answer without arguing back. The growth in just a few days seems to shock him. In reality, after the party, both men had done some thinking. Draco began to allow himself to feel something other than contempt and Harry realized something that was always there from the beginning….

“It may come as a shock to you but some people here actually care about you.” Harry mumbles. “Don’t thank me for doing something friends do for one another. You should have realized I don’t care about whatever reputation I have or what standards people hold me too now. People can’t decide who I can and can’t associate with or get close to. I am my own person and can decide things for myself. But I am tired of fighting with you, Mal- Draco.”

Draco shut his eyes and let out a breath. “We’re friends?” He asks.

“I mean… if you want?” Harry asked in return. Both boys are unsure of how to move forward. “Your company isn’t entirely intolerable. And Pansy can be fun sometimes so yes. Friends?” Harry decides and extends his hand toward Draco.

Shock takes over Draco’s body, making him grow far more tense than he was prior. He stares at Harry’s palm, not moving. Just as Harry was about to move his hand away and apologize, Draco’s larger hand cradles his palm in a loose handshake.

“Of course we’re friends, Harry. I don’t think Pansy or Blaise would speak to me if I didn’t make amends soon.”

Both boys nod at each other before Harry awkwardly removes his hand from Draco’s and scratches the back of his neck. “So how bad was I at breakfast?”

“Oh, just terrible. But I’m sure no one would try to mess with you now.” Draco jokes and leaves the bathroom. Harry smiles and follows him.

The men walk to their class in near silence. But it’s not awkward this time. It’s comfortable, with maybe just a small amount of tension when their hands brush or their shoulders touch, but neither was going to acknowledge it now that they were friends. Just friends…

Rule 12. Make Your Enemy Your Friend (Ignore The Urge To Kiss Him).

Once they got to class, both men were a bit hungry from missing breakfast but happy nonetheless, the questions from their friends started flying.

“Did you two make up yet?” Ron asks loudly.

“More like make out.” Nott answers.

“Congrats on not killing each other. So I guess you got that anger out a different way.” Blaise comments.

“Pansy owes me ten galleons.” Hermione smiles smugly.

Harry blushes at Theo’s comment but confidently puts their questions to a rest. “We’re friends and he helped me fix my hands. What were you betting on now?”

“That you wouldn’t make it to class.” Pansy mumbles glumly.

“Why wouldn’t we make it to class? We’re not going to fight anymore.” Harry asks as he takes his seat.

Draco just chuckles silently and shakes his head. “Because they thought we’d be busy doing something else.”

Harry continues to look confused and Hermonie turns to Theo and says,”This isn’t what Luna meant. How much more oblivious can these two get?”

“Ten galleons they dance around each other until Christmas holidays.” He returns.

“Oh it will definitely happen before that, Harry’s bound to jump him after a party again.” She smiles happily as they agree on the terms of the new bet before class begins moments later.

Notes:

As always let me know what you think guys! I tried to add in a reference to the movies. Did it work? Do I need to change it?

Trying to update more.

What do you think will happen next?

Chapter 12: Suck, Blow, Snog, or Spin?

Summary:

Rule 13. If You Want To Kiss Your Enemy, Keep It A Secret (And It’s A Totally Normal Desire).

Chapter 12- Suck, Blow, Snog or Spin?

Weeks passed by without much of an issue. Well, without their normal fighting that is. The two seemed convinced that friends needed to constantly tease each other and try to make each other flustered with “fake” flirting. Their peers were beginning to wonder how much of it was actually fake at this point. If it were a contest, Draco would consider himself the winner. He kept his confident persona most times when Harry was near but the second he left, Pansy would not hear the end of it. Harry just kept persisting that there are nothing but platonic feelings between the pair. To prove his point he drew a line to physical contact between the two. By refusing to be alone with him or too close to him, Harry was able to continue to say there was nothing going on between them, not that a single soul at Hogwarts believed him though. By strictly sleeping in the same room as him and otherwise surrounding himself with their friends, he was able to keep the flashes of pale skin and rough hands out of his mind most of the time (when Draco was around, that is).

Their classes continued and now it was the end of yet another week in late October. Halloween weekend to be exact. The other years would be gathering for their own celebrations in the common rooms but as for their eighth year students, nothing was arranged for them as they mostly took care of themselves. Or they were supposed to be able to look after themselves. Looking at a few of the students who were adults only in technicality, there were definitely some doubts from some professors.

Thus, Pansy and Hermione come through once again with Seamus and Dean not far behind proposing the idea of another party. To say Harry is not a fan of the idea is an understatement. When Pansy comes to his dorm dragging Draco along with her to convince Harry to join them in the common room after dinner, he is immediately tense.

“Um… I’m not so sure that's a good idea, Pansy.” He looks apprehensively between Draco and Pansy from his position on the bed.

“Oh come on, Harry! If you’re so worried about what’s going to happen, don't drink as much. But Dean said there won’t be as much alcohol anyway. Something about Ron and his brothers fighting. But Anyway. That’s besides the point. Both of you are coming. It’s not a costume party or anything so all you have to do is show up. Low effort seems to be your style these days, Harry.”

“What can I say? It’s the life of a retired hero. Avoiding all press and trying to finish secondary school.” Harry smiles lazily, placing his hands behind his head and crossing his ankles.

“I’m not going either, Pans. I love you but two years ago on halloween I was half naked and left at a bar. That isn’t my idea of fun and you know it.” Draco adds, not looking up from his essay he’s begun to outline at his desk.

Pansy drapes herself over Draco's desk, forcing him to stop writing and set his quill aside. “Come on Dray, it’ll be fun. And we won’t be playing the same games as last time so you two have nothing to worry about.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry asks with a yawn and a stretch.

“It means, you can sn-“ Pansy abruptly stops at Draco casting a tongue tie hex in her general direction, not looking up. “Did you just try to hex me?” She asks with a smug smile.

“Ignoring Pansy for a moment, I think I might go for a little bit. It could be fun, the music and the dancing and whatnot.” Draco reasons, gesturing nonshalontly while giving her a pointed look.

“Maybe for you, but if Theo drunkly hit on Ron and I have to console him while he’s having a gay crisis again, I might just jump off the astronomy tower.” Harry argues sarcastically with a laugh.

“Theo isn’t drinking actually. Something about his charm being affected. He said he’s hotter sober?” Adds Pansy, confused. “So you’re fine, Potter. See you two at seven.”

She skips out of the room as Hermione enters, making her turn right around again and follow behind her roommate.

“Harry. We’re going to make you look amazing for this party, okay? I know you don’t want to go and I know the reasons but we’re going to celebrate and have a good time. No complaining or I’ll let Ron know where you hide your sweets?” She looks pointedly at him, daring him to object.

Harry sighs, weighing his options. Arguing with Hermione never ends well. “You’re not touching my hair.”

With that, Hermione whisks him out of the room explaining that his hair is looking a bit too wild, Pansy following suit shouting that she gets to help too. This left Draco to get ready and try to plan something for the evening. He has a lot of thinking to do…

——-
Three hours.

That’s how long it had been. Three bloody hours of Pansy probing his face with various metal objects and Hermione transfiguring his clothes every few seconds. It has been a nightmare for Harry, but he couldn’t complain much. The pair had done a lot of great work. Hermione used a special hair potion she uses on her curls on his hair to tame it a bit. Pansy made the potion for her and Harry could have sworn he saw her blushing when Hermione was raving about it. His hair remained tamed for all of ten minutes before both women decided it looked too “unnatural” on Harry. Thus, his new Slytherin friend had delicately disheveled his hair with various other home-brewed potions she developed herself.

“You’re going to look rough, but in a sexy way, not so much the lost homeless man look you seem to have going on all the time. Not that some people don’t like that evidently.” She had told him. He tried to defend himself a bit to no avail. Even Hermione had barely given any constructive criticism when he said Harry at least had the muscles from the war.

Hermione eventually did decide on one outfit for the man, even if it took three hours. Harry wears a tight black long sleeve shirt paired with some faded black jeans with some holes torn in the knees. They allow him to wear his favorite muggle sneakers after some bribing on his part. He argued that he’d get cold but the women just laughed at him and continued to get themselves ready.

“You’re not going to be cold, Dray is going to make sure of it.” Pansy whispers toward Hermione, making her giggle and Harry’s face heat up.

“Who said anything about Draco?” He sasses, running a hand through his hair.

“Just now? You did, darling.” Pansy confidently replies while painting her lips a crimson red while Hermione stares in awe.

Harry rolls his eyes and snaps his fingers to get Hermione out of her Pansy induced trance. He picks up a skirt and top from their floor and tosses it to her, while she burns red in embarrassment. “Go change, we’re going to be late.”

“For once you actually want to be on time. How ironic.” She mumbles but walks into their bathroom nonetheless.

The three young adults waltz into the common room as soon as everyone else begins to arrive and in no time at all, the party is alive and flourishing. Music plays at a continuous hum, people slowly get louder to talk over it and the lights seem to dim with every passing minute. Ron eventually wanders over to Harry who sat himself in the corner of the room (he clearly is not looking for a particular pale man. Definitely not).

“Mate, do you reckon I’ll be the only single bachelor left after tonight?” He asks while looking out over most of the eighth years. Men and women dance with each other, many pairs snogging by the fire or flirting with each other.

Theo looks around the room as he gracefully walks down the stairs, entering the common room. He finds Harry and Ron quickly and starts to make his way through the crowd, smiling brighter when he catches Ron’s gaze.

Ron’s neck starts to color, rising slowly until his ears are burning pink. His freckles stand out subtly as he swallows hard.

“Harry…” He whispers, his voice cracking slightly. “It’s happening again…”

Harry chuckles and claps his friend on the back. “No Ron, I think Theo has some other plans for tonight. And just remember, it’s okay to be a little gay.”

Theo finally makes his way over to them, opens his mouth to speak when Blaise shouts over the crowd, effectively interrupting him.

“Come one, come all. Gather ‘round people, we are going to play a little game I like to call Suck, Blow, Snog, or Spin.” He starts waving people into a circle.

Harry giggles nervously slightly at the name, already knowing it can’t be good. The crowd slowly parts and he takes a seat on the floor, noticing his roommate for the first time tonight. Draco sits in an armchair next to him with a clear glass of firewhiskey. He is completely relaxed, leaning effortlessly against the back of the chair with his arms draped elegantly over the arms. He wore a simple loose grey t-shirt and some dark denim jeans. Nothing special about the outfit, except it is completely un-malfoy. Harry couldn’t get enough of it. He just looks so… inviting… so tempting…

Draco catches his roommate staring and smirks slightly. He raises an eyebrow and opens his arms just slightly more, nodding his head downwards ever so slightly. Such a gesture that only Harry would understand his playful taunt. A simple motion that dares Harry to come closer and ignore the heat coursing through his body. Flashes of a fever dream pass before Harry’s eye rips his gaze from Draco’s before he does something dangerous.

“Now that that’s settled, time for the rules. The rules. They’re very simple. The tarot care will be placed on your lips like so. You suck in to keep the card up then turn to the person next to you, and blow out once their lips are on the card. We pass the card around until it falls. If you cause it to drop before you get it to the next person you have two options. One, you snog the person you failed to pass it to, or two, you spin this empty bottle and complete the dare the person the bottle lands on decides to give you as proper punishment. Simple enough, right?” Blaise explains.

A few heads nod eagerly but a few people tense. Draco cracks his neck and hopes for a quick escape. He may have figured out his own feelings in a few hours with the help of Theo but he wasn’t so sure if he was ready to confront them head on.

Harry sits quietly, smiling down at his lap. He might not admit it to anyone else, but he isn’t opposed to the idea of kissing Draco again…

Rule 13. If You Want To Kiss Your Enemy, Keep It A Secret (And It’s A Totally Normal Desire).

Notes:

Hello wonderful readers!
I started college up again and I’ve been more inspired to write with all the comments asking for more chapters. I didn’t realize people were actually enjoying my story.

Thank you so much for the comments they encouraged me to write more and to get this story finished soon. I have some fun ideas for the next few chapters so hopefully I get them all out soon!

If anyone is interested in sending me ideas or their thoughts for the story, my socials are below :)

Instagram- October._.skies
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Who do you think will make the first move??

Chapter 13: The Dean and Seamus’ Explosion

Summary:

This is sorta just a filler chapter but necessary for the plot.

The game had started off easy, a lot of people seem to enjoy failing on purpose to start snogging the person next to them eagerly. The card had made its way around the circle only one full time. Harry had to stand only once and pass it to Draco who was still in the armchair. Many people, including Harry himself, expected the card to drop but, to everyone’s surprise, he passed the card to him without an issue. Draco however, had reached out, cupping Harry’s cheek as he took the card from his lips, gently. Draco’s hand still tingles even now, remembering the warmth of golden skin beneath his fingertips. It took skill to look as unbothered by the small touch, but lucky for him, he has seven years of practice of not letting Harry Potter affect him.

Currently, Hermione passes the card to Seamus who quickly blows the card into the lap of one smug-looking Dean Thomas. Dean smiles brightly, tossing the card to the middle of the circle, and nearly crushes the bloke as he pounces on him.

“Those two have had tension for years, I knew one of them would eventually crack,” Theo mumbles to no one in particular as he drinks in the scene in front of him. He shakes his head, looking away from the two lovers to Neville who breaks the news to him.

“I’d assume so, they’ve been dating ever since Dean and Ginny broke up,” Neville tells him, shocking Theo who looks between Neville and the pair of men currently doing much more than a simple snog. Harry wonders how they are so comfortable with each other that clothes are already starting to be tossed about the room without care…

“Oi! Keep your shirts on or get a room,” Blaise is quick to intervene. He’s sure that neither man would mind an audience, but a few guests are already looking a bit uncomfortable, specifically, Ron, who is looking a little distraught and confused.

The pair shuffles to the staircase, running into walls and tables, never breaking the kiss. They sigh and laugh every step of the way. Harry stares at the pair in contemplation. Love wasn’t something he had experience with, but that had to be it right? They made it through the war together and all this time…

“Young love.” Theo sighs, wiping a fake tear from his eye. A few people laugh but Draco sighs and looks longly at the empty staircase. Harry, only barely noticing this, gives him a curious look but nothing more. It seems he isn’t the only one thinking about dense topics tonight.

People begin to move closer into the circle, repairing the missing holes from guests that have left with their partners. Draco stays comfortably lounging in his chair, gesturing to the forgotten card in the center of the group. The card is picked up by Hermione who passes it to Pansy, quickly. She cups her face gently and passes it without much trouble. However, Pansy, who seems a bit flustered from the woman’s feather-like touch, drops it between herself and Blaise. Both pause and stare at each other with wide eyes.

“Spin!” They simultaneously shout with a look of disgust on their faces.

Draco lets out a deep chuckle at the two ex-lovers and leans forward in his chair, preparing for a show. Harry tenses at the movement, eerily aware of the blonde's presence and proximity. Somehow during the course of the game, he had found himself leaning against the front of the armchair Draco sat in. Now that Draco is looming above him, he finds it much harder to focus on the scene unfolding before him.

“Harry,” Draco draws breathily from just above him, causing him to tense and turn his gaze upward. Time slows for Harry as green eyes meet grey in the dim firelight. “The bottle landed on you.”

Harry, stutters out various beginnings of sentences as he tries to shake himself out of the daze he momentarily fell into. Something about the way Draco said his name made him… suspicious? No, not suspicious. Maybe he’s just curious or intrigued by him now?

“Have Pansy and Granger do something. Both of them are staring at each other like they hung the stars in the sky.” Draco suggests, pressing closer to him but not close enough to touch. Harry furrows his brows but nods slightly, trying to focus on the dare and not the game Draco seems to be playing.

“Oh, um, Pansy. I dare you to… Uh,” Harry pauses, trying to think of something to say, but nothing comes into his mind that useful. The side of Draco’s thigh brushes slightly against his shoulder, sparking the contents of a dream to seep into the front of his consciousness.

“Harry,” Draco sighs breathily as he caresses Harry’s thigh. Harry’s chest rises rapidly as he stares down at him. He licks his lips and nervously grabs a hold of the man’s blonde hair for support. Draco smiles into his inner thigh before gently nibbling at the skin there making Harry’s breath hike and-

“I dare you to give Hermione a hickey on her thigh.” He rushes out, feeling his face heat up at the memory of his recurring dream. Draco’s leg is lightly pressing against his side, making his head spin.

Draco laughs at Hermione’s horrified expression and Pansy's eager smirk. He leans back in his chair and smiles down at Harry. “That was the first thing you thought of? Where is your mind right now?”

Harry just looks back up at him and rolls his eyes, pondering the same question.

Hermione is nervously playing with her skirt while Pansy kneels in front of her. She runs her hands up and down the nervous woman’s thighs, moving her skirt up slightly, and begins to lean down. Her tinted lips are just about to make contact with her inner thigh when a series of loud crashes and smoke starts to file down the stairwell from their dorm rooms.

Blaise is the first to jump up and investigate the issue along with Neville and surprisingly Draco. Neville reaches the stairs and a pair of half-naked men stumble down them, covered in soot and ashes. The room became quiet quickly and Blaise seems a bit smug.

“What have you blown up this time, mate?” Blaise asks Seamus who turns red instantly.

“You burn your eyebrows off ONE TIME-” He huffs out when his boyfriend places a hand on his arm to calm him. The smoke from the staircase slowly starts to clear.

“I actually managed to fuck it up this time lads,” Dean admits, looking down at his shoes. He looks up, clearing his throat. “Erm, Harry?”

Harry looks up from his spot on the ground but does nothing to acknowledge the two. He already has a bad feeling about this.

“I’ll spare the details, but I was trying to do a certain spell to speed things up but I… well I was a bit preoccupied and um… Your room is right above ours. I guess we must have gone up a few more stairs than we needed to.” He pauses, scratching the back of his neck looking away from Harry. “And I guess I muttered the wrong words or did the wrong gesture…” He looks nervously at Draco for a moment then looks at Seamus for some guidance.

“For Merlin’s sake, Dean. He blew up your four-poster,” Seamus finishes, crossing his arms over his bare chest and looking a bit sheepish.

Harry froze for a moment and took a deep breath. The room seems still and silent. If a pin dropped he is sure he would have heard it.

“You’re trunk is fine and all! Nothing else caught fire. We’ll try to fix it before McGonagall finds out. I’m sure one of us knows a few spells to fix it. Maybe Hermione-”

Harry cuts Seamus off with a sigh. “I rarely get sleep anyway. We can’t go to McGonagall about it. She’ll think Draco and I are fighting again. I refuse to risk getting anyone expelled for something like this. Just… I’ll figure something out. Don’t worry about it. It can’t be that bad.”

Notes:

I have so many ideas for the next chapter!!! It's either gonna be really fluffy or smutty, depends what mood I'm in.

Comment what you guys think!

side note- I might start posting one-shots or some stuff from other fandoms. I started this fic over a year ago and I really want to explore other ships. Feel free to send me ideas or requests on snap or insta!

Chapter 14: Cuddling Without Confessions

Summary:

Rule 14. Cuddling With The Enemy Is Dangerous.

“It’s bad.” Draco points out from his place leaning against the door frame. He stares down at Harry who is on his knees, examining the burnt ashes that used to be his bed. The botched spell had left mostly smoldering ash and a few splintered pieces of wood scattered about the room.

“No shit.” Harry snaps. “You can laugh, I know you want to make fun of my situation.” He looks over his shoulder to see the other man staring at the mess in front of them with furrowed brows. He ignores Harry’s bitter comment and continues to ponder silently.

“I think,” Harry sighs, trying to mask his frustration and control his temper. “I think I’ll be sleeping in the common room.” He pokes at a shredded piece of red cloth with his wand. The holes that litter the remains of the blanket are still smoking. He tosses the fabric to the ground with a huff, standing to brush the ash off his jeans and run a hand messily through his hair. He pulls his long-sleeved shirt over his head quickly and tosses it on his trunk, seemingly catching Draco’s attention.

“What are you doing?” He asks coolly, keeping his eyes (respectfully) on messy black hair and glasses smudged with ash.

“You’d have heard me if you would stop daydreaming about my misfortune and how to make this fun for you. I said I’m going to the common room tonight to sleep. I decided to change into something comfortable. Glad to see all I need to do to get your attention is strip.” He says bitterly, mumbling the last part as he pulls off his jeans and replaces them, rather slowly Draco notices, with muggle sweatpants.

“I don’t find pleasure in your misery, Harry. I do believe I can find a spell to fix your bed, but it might take me a bit.” He explains gently, taking a step closer to the shirtless man. “The common room isn’t your brightest idea considering someone is always trying to slip you some sort of potion-“

Harry is rummaging through his trunk for a shirt when he closes it with a thud, interrupting him efficiently. “What are you getting at? I can’t exactly sleep here and I’m pretty sure if I haven’t been hexed in my sleep yet, I can handle a few people trying to slip me love potions.”

Draco approaches him quickly now, towering over him slightly, all gentleness was gone from his town and posture. “I understand you’re upset right now, but be careful what you say next, Potter. I have not and will not hex you and you know that. You live in this room too and have been safe with me since I got back to Hogwarts.” He sighs and takes a step back, glancing down at bare, golden skin. Looking away quickly while sighing, he says, “Just, share a bed with me tonight. I promise I won’t try to kill you and it would be better regardless. The couches are uncomfortable and I can do an extension charm on my bed so you don’t even have to be near me. So just…” He trails off, gesturing toward his bed without looking at the stunned man in front of him.

Harry flushes red with embarrassment. He knows he shouldn’t take his frustrations out on Draco and that both of them have been on good terms lately. They’re friends, so he should trust him by now. Of course, he trusts him now, how couldn’t he? So sharing a bed for one night isn’t going to be that horrible. As long as he can keep a certain blonde from invading his dreams tonight…

“I… I’m sorry. I do actually trust you. But I don’t want to invade your privacy like that. I am a terrible sleeper and can have some horrible dreams that make me wake up screaming or…“ He pauses, blushing but tries to find the right words nonetheless.

“I offered, didn’t I?” Draco answers with a raised eyebrow and an expressionless mask. “I wouldn’t have if I minded. I don’t typically offer my bed to others. Learn to accept some help, Chosen One.”

Harry weighs his options as Draco extends his bed a significant amount. One night couldn’t hurt and he could always ask one of the others if he could sleep in their dorm if things got too out of hand. And he is being invited after all. Maybe this means… no. He knows better than to get his hopes up. He opens his mouth and turns to respond but his breath gets caught in his throat. Pale skin and lean muscle make it impossible to form a complete, coherent thought.

Draco turns, casting a gentle look at the man in front of him. “Go on, I’m going to have a shower. You’ll be asleep before I get done.” A mischievous sparkle appears in his eyes. “Honestly, if you’re that nervous of being close to me you can just say so. But I don’t bite, I promise. That is unless you ask nicely, then I might.” He adds with a wink and his signature smirk.

His face reddens at the thought of asking, no, begging, Draco to do something to him. He clears his throat quickly and timidly responds, “You don’t make me nervous, I can swear to that.”

Draco just smiles at that before beginning to walk across their room to enter their bathroom in only his jeans. His skin looks soft and his hair is slightly ruffled. His back would look a lot better with long red scratches down them, Harry thinks momentarily before pushing the thought from his mind. He stands with his back to the man as he passes slowly, taking a deep breath.

“If I don’t make you nervous,” Draco turns to close the door. “Then how do I make you feel, Harry?”

The door closes with a soft click and Harry is left with various words swimming around his thoughts. He eventually allows himself to move and lay down in Draco’s bed. The soft pillow he lays his head on smells like shampoo and something that can only be described as Draco Malfoy. He curls himself into the sheets and sighs, he is more comfortable than he has been in a long time. He might just sleep through the night as well.

Some time passes and Harry can feel the drowsiness taking over when he hears the bathroom door creak open. He makes a conscious effort to maintain his even breathing and keep his body relaxed. The bed dips under the blonde's weight. His body heat immediately reaches Harry and nearly causes him to sigh at the feeling, but he restrains himself. Draco rolls over to him and brushes a tuft of inky black hair off his forehead, revealing his scar. His fingers linger on the soft locks of his hair briefly before he removes his hand with a long sigh.

“If only you knew,” he whispers. “If only you knew how you catch my attention without even trying.”

Harry's breathing nearly stops, his tired brain trying to make sense of what he just heard. Luckily, he doesn’t have to think for long before sleep takes over. He doesn’t feel soft lips press against his forehead lightly.

“Goodnight, love.”
_________

Draco had never been one for physical affection, no matter how much he may long for it. All sorts of affection were absent in his childhood and he never quite got the chance to fill the void it left within him. So to say he was notably surprised when he awoke to someone’s head on his chest and calloused fingers caressing his exposed hips is an understatement. He takes a deep breath and the hand on his hips abruptly stops. Harry’s breathing becomes even again, but Draco is not daft, he already is aware the other man is awake.

Draco smirks to himself and gently runs his fingertips over the other man’s spine. He slowly strokes a line from the base of his spine to the top of his neck. Harry shivers slightly but still does not give away that he is awake. Long fingers slip into dark curls that are more untamed than usual. His hair never ceases to amaze him. How it can be so unruly and yet so bloody soft is beyond him. He tugs gently at the base of his hair and Harry gasps, gripping Draco’s hip roughly.

The blonde let out a deep, raspy chuckle. “Good morning to you too.”

Harry doesn’t move at all but mumbles what is most likely some form of a greeting. He starts tracing his hip again, allowing himself to explore slightly higher. Draco doesn’t move his hand as he continues to play with his hair, sighing at the warmth of their current position. Harry shifts slightly, pulling a leg over Draco’s legs and running his hand up to his chest, lifting the man’s shirt in the process. He takes a deep breath, allowing Harry to explore his chest with featherlike touches.

Harry will most likely blame his actions on being delirious from just waking up, but for now, he just relishes the feeling of warm, bare skin under his calloused fingertips. He hasn’t ever woken up with someone else before and he can’t say he wants it to end. Draco would, not surprisingly, be able to agree with him on that. Something about his arm wrapped around another man’s back, playing with his hair and feeling the warmth of him sink into his chest just made him feel… content.

Harry is relentless in his slow actions. His hand’s ever don’t stop but, travel down over the pale man’s navel and back up to his sternum again and again. Repetition that reduces Draco to a sighing, speechless relic of the man he is. His fingers only continue to tug softly on soft curls as he occupies his other hand with lightly gripping Harry’s thigh that’s rested over his hips. A burst of air hits his neck, presuming Harry enjoys what he’s doing.

Harry doesn’t know what to think except that Draco Malfoy is touching him. Draco Malfoy is touching his hair. Draco Malfoy is caressing his thigh. And he likes it. He wants him to touch him. Slowly he realizes that he is still tracing lean muscle with his hand and he decides that maybe, just maybe, Draco likes it too. Maybe it isn’t such a far-fetched dream to think Draco would maybe want him to touch him…

The fingers in his hair retreat slowly making him look up at the man for the first time since he’s been awake. “Why’d you stop?” He whispers without thinking about his words. He will blame this on just waking up.

Draco lets out a heavy breath. Between the words of the man in his arms and the firm weight rested on his naval, he can’t think straight. The weight resting delicately on his hips starts to make his head foggy.

“I… I think we’re going to miss breakfast.” He mumbles, trying to catch his breath.

“Oh…” Harry realizes that the sun is shining through the window and that Draco is most likely right. He sits up and removes himself from the blonde quickly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean…” He pauses, trying to form a lie that is convinceable.

“No.” Draco breaths, sitting up slightly. “Don’t be sorry. I… I liked it.”

Harry blushes stares at the blonde for a few moments before nodding and scampering off to the restroom. They are most certainly not going to talk about this right now. Harry is too relaxed, too comfortable, too open… he might just confess something he has yet to admit to himself.

Rule 14. Cuddling With The Enemy Is Dangerous.

Notes:

We're close to the end guys!!! But the question is, do I include smut or not???

What are your thoughts on this trope? Did I write it okay? I never have before.

Feedback is always appreciated!!

Chapter 15: High Hopes at Hogsmeade

Summary:

A Hogsmeade trip has never been so... eye-opening.

By the time Harry makes it out of the restroom, the other man has already left the room. He sighs, running a hand through his messy hair. He begins to change into a worn pair of baggy jeans and his favorite muggle sweater Hermione had gotten him. He can’t quite place his disappointment in finding an empty room. He knows he has no right to have touched Draco like he had this morning, he has no claim to the man’s company. And yet, the fallen expectation that he would be in their dorm room hangs heavy in the air, tainted with lingering disappointment. However, Draco had mentioned that he liked what Harry was doing…

Who is he kidding? Harry has no idea what he’s doing. A few months ago, if someone told him he would be returning to Hogwarts just to end up cuddling with the one man he swore he would ignore, he would’ve laughed at them. How did he get to this point? Why is he disappointed? Surely, there has to be an explanation for the sinking feeling in his chest. Maybe he's falling ill…

Despite the strange mood he is in, Harry knows his friends will come looking for him if he doesn’t show up to breakfast soon. Begrudgingly, he makes his way to the great hall and tries to keep memories of smooth, pale skin and electricity dancing across his spine out of his mind.

Walking into the hall, he quickly senses something off with most of his friends. Blaise and Neville are the only ones seemingly acting like themselves. Hermione is giggling at something Pansy whispered to her (unable to focus on his morning read), Ron isn’t eating, Theo looks too rigid to actually be that calm, and Seamus is actually hungover for once. The last seat that is open is between Ron and the object of his morning confusion. He takes the seat slowly, trying not to show his hesitation.

“Oh, hey Harry. It’s about time you showed up.” Ron smiles over at his friend before picking at his food again.

“How’d you sleep?” Hermione asks, pulling herself away from Pansy. Literally.

“More like where’d he sleep,” Blaise adds, resting his head on his palm as he looks between Harry and his silent roommate.

Draco tenses slightly beside him before relaxing just as quickly. Harry clears his throat. “I slept quite well actually, ‘Mione. I think you lot wore me out yesterday.” He tried to joke.

“Oh well, that’s great,” Hermione mumbles in acknowledgment, staring at Ron’s odd behavior.

Everyone goes back to silently eating(except Ron), which is a little unusual for the group. Lately, it’s been rather difficult to make sure everyone eats enough before they have to go to class. Silence has never sat well with Blaise, too eerie and too much of it when he was young, Draco believes. Draco notices his friend whisper something to his boyfriend while looking across his friends. Neville nods and takes a sip of his juice before he speaks.

“Alright. I don’t know what’s gotten into you guys, but I think we could all use some fresh air. Hogsmeade is open and since we’re technically adults now, we can go as we please. It’s the weekend, we might as well try to enjoy it. Let’s all go and have some fun, yeah? I think some of you could use a little distraction.” He looks around the group, looking for some form of agreement.

“I think that’s a lovely idea, sweetheart.” Blaise agrees, placing his arm protectively around his boyfriend’s waist. “What do you guys say? Meet us back here in a half an hour and we’ll all head down?”

“Sounds good to me, I could use a butter beer and a trip to Honeydukes doesn’t sound so bad.” Theo agrees after a moment. Ron’s head immediately shoots up from his food and he stares around the group as though he is just realizing where he is. Theo smiles at him and looks at Draco who is eyeing the pair suspiciously.

“Erm, I wouldn’t mind heading out for a while,” Ron adds.

Harry gives him a strange look before nodding along in agreement.

“Alright then, it’s settled. Meet back here in a half an hour.” Blaise firmly says as he pulls Neville up from the table and walks away.

Draco sighs silently. Hogsmeade it is.
_____________

To his dismay, Harry didn’t pass Draco at their dorm like he had hoped he would. He wanted to ask him about this morning. About what it all meant to him. Draco had firmly decided he would not examine or analyze his own feelings until he figured out exactly how Harry felt about the situation. He has waited four years, he could wait until he knew for sure. Hope is a dangerous thing, he had learned this lesson the hard way.

When he arrived at the great hall again, Harry was already there, speaking to Ron in hushed tones. Not wanting to interrupt, he makes his way to Theo. Something was off with the way he acted at breakfast and he is determined to find out what.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you and Weasley or am I going to have to guess?” He asks Theo coolly.

Theo smiles but it doesn’t meet his eyes. “Why don’t we start heading into town ahead of the others?” He peers over his shoulder at his friends' gathering and tells everyone the two would start walking ahead of everyone else.

Once the pair were outside the castle, far enough out of earshot, Draco gives the man a pointed look. Theo catches the look and sighs loudly.

“I can’t tell you when it happened exactly or how for that matter. Somewhere between the first big party, we had and our first potions exam, perhaps. It didn’t happen instantly, he didn’t catch my attention at first. But when he did, I swear I couldn’t look away.” He confesses.

The blonde takes a moment to think this new information over. Nott and Weasley. An unlikely pairing, but not terrible. They could compliment each other well enough. However, to everyone’s knowledge, Ron is as straight as a pole. He needs more information. “Last night you two could still look each other in the eye. What changed?”

Theo runs a hand through his hair and lets out another long sigh. “I fucked it up, Dray. When we all went up to our dorms last night, after my shower, he complimented me. He told me how he liked my hair a mess, he said it made me look a little less perfect and a little more human. Coming from him, to be called human after the war is the kindest thing a person can say to me. I thanked him, of course. But I didn’t expect him to run his hand through my hair. Somewhere inside me, all that self-control I had gained completely vanished. I…” He pauses for a moment to collect himself. “I kissed him.”

Draco is quiet for a moment. Theo has never been one to be tied down. This is the first time he has ever heard of the man being in danger of falling in love. However, he knows his friend to be a loyal one, especially to those he cares about. If he were serious about Ron, he needs to take things at Ron’s pace. He didn’t even know if Ron was into blokes, for Merlin’s sake. But no matter, Draco simply asks, “Did he kiss you back or…?”

“He actually did. But he seemed… timid. He pulled away after a few moments and told me he should be going to bed. He had been blushing but that doesn’t mean much. And this morning, he wouldn’t even look at me, let alone speak to me. I thought going into Honeydukes and picking him up some sweets as an apology might make up for my lack of self-control.“ He added the last part with a nervous, pessimistic laugh.

“Well, it seems like he actually likes you. If he isn’t out yet and this is the first time he has found a bloke attractive, he may just not know how to handle it. And you are a bit of a flirt. I think that getting him some sweets and talking to him is honestly a good gesture to figure out how he feels. You can know where you stand and if there is hope for you two as a couple. But Theo, I have to ask, are you serious about this? About him?”

Without hesitation, Theo answers, “Yes. I'm not going to pretend that I understand how or why, but I want to date this man.”

“Alright, then I believe we have some sweets to go find.”

“Not so fast. You have some explaining to do.” Theo gives him a pointed look of his own. “When are you going to tell me that we were all right about this? Seven years of-“

“I refuse to admit it. Not until he tells me what it means to him. He seems almost as if he is finally noticing me for something other than being cruel. He actually slept in my bed last night and woke up on my chest. He might… I can’t be sure he likes me.” Draco quickly whispers, as if someone is listening to them.

“You might just be as obvious as the Chosen One himself.” Theo teases, opening the door to Honeydukes.

“I am not. Now back to your red-headed disaster. What does he like from here?” Draco changes the subject, definitely not subtly.

“What doesn’t he like from here is an easier question to answer.” The pair laugh as they begin gathering sweets for those who hold their admiration.

Meanwhile, the rest of the group has begun the short flight over to the town. Ron and Harry were a little behind the rest of them as they still had much to discuss. Ron is looking straight ahead but continuing to confine to his best friend.

“He kissed me, Harry!” He repeats, for the sixteenth time in the last ten minutes.

“I am aware of that part. Did you like it?” Harry repeats the same question that finally seems to draw the attention of the redhead.

“Did I- what?!” He nearly shouts as he’s forced to guide his broom back on course. “Well… I guess it was nice.”

“Then what are you freaking out about? It seems like he likes you. As far as I know, he hasn’t been snogging anything that moves recently. So-“

“I’m not gay. Am I? Does this make me gay?” Ron rushes out in a panic.

“No Ron. Bisexuality exists. You don’t need a label either. If you liked it and you like him then I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” Harry gently explains.

Ron is quiet for a moment, looking quite puzzled.

“You don’t have to know right now either, mate. It’s okay. But we are getting close to Hogsmeade, fancy a butterbeer and a new topic of conversation?” Harry offers.

“Bloody hell, yes.” Ron sighs as he lands his broom with a thud. “So,” he draws out, “How were things last night with Malfoy?”

Harry glares at the grin on his friend’s face but answers, “Nothing happened. We’re just friends and living in the same dorm. Last night we extended the only bed in the room and just slept.” He couldn’t help the heat that rushed to his face at the memories of this morning.

“You know, for someone who offers up some decent love advice, you’re pretty shit at following it.”

“What does that mean? This has nothing to do with-“

“I might still think he’s a prat but he can be your prat if you want that. It’s not going to bother any of us.” Ron tries again to explain. Harry can only gape at this, though.

“I may have the emotional range of a teaspoon or whatever ‘Mione says, but you certainly are bloody oblivious, mate. I’m telling you that he clearly likes you and you like him. Nothing is stopping you from doing something about it but you.”

Harry stops in front of Honeydukes and stares at his best friend, completely shocked. He doesn’t like…well. Draco doesn’t like him like that. They’re friends and right now, that’s enough for Harry. However, when memories of soft lips and gentle gasps flood his consciousness, he can’t help but want to at least try for more. But how?

Ron guides Harry into the candy shop, mumbling about how he of all people shouldn’t have had to point this one out to him. Suddenly, Ron stumbles, pushing Harry forward along with himself. He gasps and braces for the fall, but it never comes. Someone has grabbed onto his shoulders in a loose grip before he could stumble any further.

“I think this one’s yours, Dray.” Theo chuckles as he lifts Harry to his feet. He glances at Ron who landed rather ungracefully on the floor. He lets go of his shocked friend and gently pushes him toward Draco (who's looking rather amused). He makes his way to his crush and kneels beside him, leaving Harry to attempt to talk to Draco alone.

With a signature smirk, the blonde begins to tease him. “Are you falling for me now, Harry?”

Harry blushes deeply, finally snapping out of the trance he was in. “I guess I am, literally in a sense.”

Draco’s smirk falters for a moment before a smile takes its place. Harry would never get used to seeing a genuine smile from this man. Just the glimpse quickens his pulse and breathing. “Theo and I got some sweets to share. Unless there is something particular you and Weasley we’re looking for?”

Harry nervously coughs and glances away from the piercing silver gaze. “Ron wanted something to make him feel better but,” he trails off as he glances and a flustered red-head in the arms of a Slytherin, “I think he’ll be okay now.”

Draco smirks at the sight in front of him. “Then would you care to look around a bit? I haven’t. Been here in quite some time. Although, I may not be welcome in some shops still.” His expression falls as he finishes.

Harry furrows his eyebrows. “You were cleared of all charges.”

“Not everyone is as forgiving as you are, love. But,” He quickly changes the subject to distract from his mistake, “There is a new tea shop next to Olivander’s that I’ve been meaning to try. If you’d like to accompany me?”

Forgiveness? Love? Harry doesn’t think he can process that bit of information at the moment. However, it does cross his mind that Draco might want to be with him alone. Or he may know better than to walk alone after his trials. Maybe it could be a little of both?

Ron and Theo had already vanished somehow, he had no reason to object to tea. “I supposed I could go for some tea. Would you mind if we stop at that muggle clothing shop on the corner? I need a few things before Kreacher sends me my clothes from Grimmauld Place.”

And so, they head out into the streets of Hogsmeade. At some point Harry grabbed Draco’s hand and neither let go until they got back to the castle. Neither paid much attention to the stares and whispers from their peers as they were too distracted by the warmth in their palms and the soft sparks of their magic intertwined.

Notes:

Sorry I've been gone so long. Got out of an abusive relationship a few days ago finally. I'm okay and you guys can expect me to actually finish this fic soon!

Chapter 16: Love Thy Enemy

Summary:

fluff and smut

The atmosphere inside the eighth year common room is much different compared to the morning breakfast in the great hall. Instead of tension drifting between peers, soft whispers and giggles float among the young adults. Hermione has her head in the lap of her (now) girlfriend. Pansy’s playing with her hair and telling her stories of how the Slytherins used to behave during the beginning of their time at Hogwarts. Blaise is adding dramatics to her tales, filling in gestures and re-enactments when necessary. Neville hangs on every word, adding in his own short stories of life in the Gryffindor common room all those years ago. Ron tries to pay attention to the fun stories, but his attention is torn away rather quickly when Theo leans close to him. He turns a bright shade of red as his roommate wraps his arm around his shoulders, whispering something about the conversation their friends were having (not that Ron could have replied, the warm feeling spreading through his chest clouds his mind).

Across from Pansy sits Draco in his usual armchair with his legs spread comfortably and a cup of tea in his hand. Relaxed with a smirk on his face, he gently corrects Pansy on her stories about how he used to behave. Harry sits between his legs on the floor in front of him, leaning his head back to gaze up at him in a fuzzy, delighted daze. Draco smiles down at him and laughs, sending pleasant tingles throughout his chest. When was the last time he had the opportunity to see him this relaxed? And to have a smile like this directed at him? Harry recalls, that even at Hogsmeade, Draco was guarded. This version of Draco, Harry decides, is his favorite. Unguarded, confident, unapologetically himself. Not that he would admit that out loud (no one should have a favorite version of their enemies).

“Harry once got locked out of the common room in fourth year and nearly got slipped a love potion by a second year Ravenclaw.” Hermione chimes in a fit of giggles, Pansy brushing hair out of her face in the process.

“If I had a sickle for every time someone tried to slip ‘Arry a love potion, I’d be rich!” Seamus announces. Various sounds of agreement or amusement fall around the crowd.

“At least I avoided it for seven years. This one ate laced chocolates and fell in love with someone he’d never met.” The brunette gestures toward his best friend from across the room.

Soon the laughter of the nostalgic conversation dies down and eyelids grow heavy with the promise of sleep. Blaise is quick to help his tired boyfriend to their room. The two women vanished sometime earlier in a fit of giggles and hushed whispers. Theo began to drag Ron up to their shared room after the latter began to fall asleep. Thus, only leaving a handful of couples lounging with each other, keeping to themselves. Harry leans his head back to ask Draco if he’s ready to turn in for the night, only for the question to get stuck in his throat. The blonde is already smiling fondly down at him. Without so much of a warning, gentle fingers make their way into dark curls. Harry’s eyes flutter shut and his mind goes blank.

“I’ve always been terribly concerned with your horrendous hair. Although, I never did expect it to be this soft.” He observes softly, raking his fingers through thick curls. Harry’s head drops onto Draco’s thigh as a smile ghosts his lips. Neither of the men speaks for a moment as they relish in each other's touch. That is until, experimentally, Draco gently tugs on the curls near the nape of Harry’s neck. Harry lets out a gasp as his eyes fly open. Green bores into silver, darkening by the second.

“What,” he clears his throat, “What was that for?”

“Just testing a theory.” He smirks, continuing his assault on Harry’s hair, tugging gently.

Careful in his choice of words, he replies, “What theory would that be?” His voice is tight with caution, trying to read the situation for what it is, not allowing his hope to get in the way.

Draco leans down, his breath ghosts the other man’s neck. “I believe Gryffindors are quite loud and annoying in general, but I expect you, darling, would have a very difficult time keeping quiet.” To emphasize his point, he roughly tugs at the dark curls he previously cradled in his hand. A low groan escapes his lips causing a pretty blush to rush up his neck.

“Although, I’m sure more testing is required to fully accept the theory.”

Draco smirks and sits up fully again, letting his hand fall from Harry’s hair to the base of his neck. The brunette can only try to catch his breath, peering around the room to see if his remaining friends caught a glimpse of what just occurred. Luckily, the remaining couples were too lost in each other to have noticed anything.

With a gentle squeeze and a lot of reluctance, Draco removes his hands from his roommate and carefully stands, announcing his exit for the evening. He offers a hand to Harry, who accepts it readily with a racing mind. Nothing that has happened recently is making sense in his mind. The flirty jokes and innuendos made between them have to be just another way to get a rise out of each other, right? He can’t seem to wrap his mind around the idea that Draco could seriously be flirting with him. This just has to be another step in his plan to terrorize Harry. Could this be how Draco acts with his close friends? In typical Gryffindor fashion, Harry decides to confront this agonizing situation head-on (and without much planning). Cornering the blonde to obtain this information seems to be the only feasible option, not that he really had considered anything else.

It takes the short walk there to allow the chosen one to gather enough confidence to confront the blonde. The second the door closes, Harry presses Draco against it. One hand pins one of the blonde’s wrists roughly above his head, and the other presses his waist into the door. Without breaking eye contact, both men instinctively begin to breathe heavier.

“What are you playing at, Draco?” Harry puffs, breaking eye contact briefly.

Draco’s shocked expression changes into something of confusion. “I haven’t the faintest clue as to what you're on about, Potter.”

Harry presses Draco harder into the door with his hips. He rests his head against the blonde’s shoulder. “Why are you messing with me? What are we doing? Merlin, I-“

Draco interrupts Harry quite effectively by reversing their position, “Why are you suspicious of me this time?” Slight irritation is evident in his tone as he adds near silently, “I thought we were passed this.”

He gulps, trying to locate his confidence. “Why… well, I know you’re flirting with me… but you don’t mean it, right? You can’t actually mean it.”

Draco chuckles, losing his calmly collected composure. Harry always had to think he had ulterior motives. He bows his head in amusement before pushing himself away from the other man. “Do you want me to mean it?”

Harry colors at the other man’s words. “That’s not- I don’t…”

“Would it bother you if I meant every word? Or if I intentionally did things, not to only get a rise out of you, but because I want an excuse to touch you? Would you be bothered by it?” Draco asks turning away slightly as a sliver of vulnerability cuts through his voice.

Closing his eyes, he turns his words over in his mind. Memories of this year flash behind his eyes serving as a reminder of how far he’s truly come in changing himself. Memories of metal rings and healed bruises. His muggle tattoo. The pair laughing with their new friends. The first time he used his given name. The late night study sessions with the Gryffindors. The fleeting touches and the alcohol driven kisses. The offer of a warm bed and waking up in pale arms. The sheer vulnerability he shows at this moment. It’s impossible to deny the improvement in his character since the war has ended. When the memory of Draco lying in the infirmary emerges in his mind, he comes to a realization as the fear of losing his former enemy fills his chest and takes over his entire being.

He barely whispers a response, too overtaken by emotion. “No, it wouldn’t bother me.”

“Then perhaps,” he pauses, “I am flirting with you intentionally.” He takes a step closer with every word. “Maybe, the reason I am doing this is that I fancy you. Quite a lot actually.”

His eyes open suddenly at the declaration, only to find Draco a mere few inches from him. His stormy gaze sent heat bubbling up in his stomach. The smallest bit of uncertainty taints the lust brooding within his eyes. Harry doesn’t give himself or the man in front of him time to overthink this. Without so much as an ounce of hesitation, he closes the distance between them.

Unlike the previous kisses they’ve shared, this one is different. It’s slow, deliberate, yet more passionate than ever. Almost as if they are trying to show each other exactly how they feel without uttering another word. Words have always complicated things between them. But actions? Actions convey so much more. With every shutter and each gasp, all the pent up frustration from years of dancing around each other is released. Harry digs his nails into clothes shoulders, trying desperately to get hold of something tangible before he’s consumed with the searing heat of their desire. A gentle bite on his bottom lip is asking more than just permission now. It’s grounding; a reminder that this is real. This isn’t another one of Harry’s fever dreams, this is really happening. The kiss deepens until the end of one collides effortlessly with the beginning of the other, and the distinction between the two men begins to blur.

Harry subconsciously begins to move toward their shared bed. Steady hands on his waist keep him firmly against Draco’s toned chest as they move. He can’t seem to stop himself from tugging gently at the hair at the bottom of the blond’s neck, pressing himself impossibly closer to the other man. The responding groan causes a shutter to run through him, he knew at that moment he would do anything to hear that sound again.

Draco is the first to break their kiss. He smirks as he sits on the edge of the bed, running his hands over Harry’s clothed chest. Far too eager to feel his hands on his skin again, Harry is quick to pull his shirt off, rather clumsily. Draco takes the opportunity to discard his own shirt as well, carelessly tossing it somewhere behind Harry. He takes a few moments to memorize every perfect imperfection dotting his partner’s chest. Every scar, each patch of dark curls, nothing is neglected by his pointed gaze. He grips his hips and pulls the man closer only to press his lips against a scar on his ribs. The whine that escapes the brunet's lips only encourages him to move his assault slightly, anticipating a larger, or louder, reaction. His sought after reaction takes the form of a low moan and nails digging into his shoulders as he runs his skilled tongue over a hardening nipple.

“Draco…”

Has his name ever felt so incredibly right to speak aloud?

Has his name ever been spoken in such a seductive manner?

Patience has never been one of Harry’s strong traits, especially when he knows exactly what he wants. Rather unexpectedly, he gently pushes the other man off his chest and drops to his knees. With the aid of a wandless vanishing spell, Draco’s erection is fully on display.

“Harry.” He breathes out. His name sounds like a prayer on his lips. “What are you…”

Cutting himself off with a gasp when lips wrap gently over the tip of his cock. Unable to take his eyes off the man kneeling at his feet, he brushes a wild lock of dark hair from the other’s face. Unable to stop himself, he tangles his long fingers beneath the chaotic tufts. It takes every bit of self-control he has to keep his hips still as Harry takes his length fully into his mouth for the first time.

“Fuck, Darling. I-”

Harry swallows, his throat contracting around the head of Draco’s large cock. He pulls back slowly, eyes tearing up slightly. Making eye contact with the blond, he runs his tongue down his length again before swallowing the full length down again. Draco lets out a strangled shout and tugs roughly at Harry’s hair. The resulting moan Harry involuntarily lets out around his cock sends glorious vibrations through him. He bucks his hips involuntarily at the feeling causing the brunette to gag.

“Fuck, you look so good like this, love.”

The lewd sounds Harry made in response to the praise, surprise both of them. Growing impossibly harder, Harry removes one hand from his pale hips to palm himself. His other hand grips the pale flesh of Draco’s hip, leaving small crescent moon indents in its wake. He speeds up his actions as he feels Draco begin to tense beneath him.

“Harry, you have to slow down… I’m close, I want to-”

Before Draco could finish his warning, Harry sucks him down again. Bobbing his head quickly, he moans around his cock again. Running his free hand up his chest seems to be his partner’s undoing. The combination of sensations tips Draco over the edge. Roughly yanking on brunette locks, accidentally pushing his head down to the base, his climax overtakes his entire being. He shakes slightly and mumbles out a string of lewd promises. Harry swallows without issue, breathing through his nose to avoid gagging again. When Draco comes down from his high, Harry pulls off his cock while looking up at him.

“Darling…” Draco drags out, noticing the lazy hand palming Harry’s, now painfully hard, erection. “Come here.”

Harry shakily stands with the help of the blond, who finishes undressing him slowly. He takes his time, dragging his fingers gently over every piece of skin he exposes. Goosebumps rise across his body despite the sweat running down his spine.

“Please, Draco!” He begs as soon as he’s fully undressed, hand lazily pumping his leaking cock.

Gently pulling Harry into his lap, Draco replaces Harry’s hand with his own. Kissing down his neck softly, whispering soft bits of praise and encouragement. He smirks at the writhing man in his lap, fully aware he can make him beg and plead more than he is currently doing. He’s certain there will be more time for that, though. He focuses his actions on the sensitive head of his partner’s cock, nibbling gently on the junction of his neck and shoulder. The loud groans leaving Harry's lips only confirm what he expected. If he's this loud when he merely touches his prick, Draco can't imagine the sounds he will make when he eventually fucks him.

Diligent hands work Harry to a breaking point, his climax like none other he has ever felt before. Everything buzzes around him. He can feel the tug of his partner's magic, pushing them together. Bursting with euphoric pleasure, he can’t tell how much time passes before his head begins to clear. He slowly comes back to reality. When he finally does, he feels the lingering effects of cleaning charms dusting over his chest. Draco moves them fully on the bed, gently pulling the blankets back while keeping Harry upright on his lap.

He turns to Harry with a small smirk. “Come on, love.”

Blushing deeply as the reality of what they just did hits him. Nonetheless, he climbs into the sheets Draco held open for him. Draco soon follows him, gently wrapping an arm around Harry’s waist. They lay face to face, just basking in the glow of each other for a moment.

Harry clears his throat. “I, uh, I fancy you as well.”

Laughing, Draco replies, “I gathered that much, love.”

The two close their eyes, happy to be consumed with each other's warmth. No words come close to explaining how they feel about each other, the pure emotions that pass between them are quite enough. However, Draco needs verbal confirmation that this isn’t a one time thing. For too long has he been taught to ignore his gut feelings. Some habits are hard to break.

“I can feel you overthinking this,” Harry mumbles into his partner’s tense chest. “I might not be as eloquent as you are, but I hope you know I really do fancy you.”

Draco relaxes a fraction and holds Harry closer as he speaks. “I don’t think I am not reading this incorrectly, however, these passed for weeks have given me hope. I would like to be more than friends, Harry.”

Harry grins and looks up at his lover. “I would assume so by the way you’re holding me. Fancy being my boyfriend then, Malfoy?”

“I thought you’d never ask. It’s always been you.”

“Why haven’t you said anything sooner then?” Harry questions, his brow furrowing.

“I simply never thought it possible.”

Despite the conversation, the brunet can’t help but yawn. “Why? I’m nothing special.”

Draco chuckles, “The entire wizarding world would disagree.”

And with that, the two lovers fall asleep in each other's arms. They still have much to learn about each other, but they really do have time to figure that out.

Rule 15. Love Thy Enemy.

Notes:

My first time writing smut, let me know what you think!

This is the last chapter before the epilogue, it's been fun writing this, and I can't wait to start a new project.

Chapter 17: Epilogue

Summary:

This is where it ends.

“If someone told me I would be attending this wedding when we were eleven, I would have hexed them.” Draco jokes as he buttons his white dress shirt.

“I don’t think anyone saw this one coming. Well,” Harry pauses, “Maybe no one other than Luna.”

It wasn’t a surprise when Luna won all the bets on the various couples at Hogwarts. She always seemed to know things that were going to happen before they happened. A prime example of how Luna has predicted the future is actually happening today, Theo and Ron’s wedding. The strange women had somehow known who would be married first. Dean and Seamus, of course. Anyone could have guessed those two would be the first to marry. However, after her own marriage to Ginny, her predictions became scarily accurate. Blaise and Neville were next to tie the knot. Then followed Hermione and Pansy’s wedding. This brings us to today; Theo and Ron.

“Honestly, somehow they compliment each other so well. I’m still trying to wrap my mind around how Ron was the one to propose. I would have thought Theo would want that attention.”

“Darling, I think you’re forgetting just how many hints Theo had to drop to get him to propose. And to make him think it was his idea.” Draco smiles, adjusting his partner’s tie.

“You’re right. I forgot how sneaky Slytherins can be.”

“I would say I tried to do the same thing with you, but that would be a lie. We all know you’re far too oblivious to catch any subtle clues I would have dropped.”

“You might have a point. However, I can’t say it wasn’t nice to see you kneeling before me for a change.” He smirks.

Playfully glaring at his fiancee, Draco grabs the brunette’s waist. Placing a quick peck on his cheek, he asks, “Are you ready to head out?”

Harry smiles. They may have been together for four years now, but the butterflies still swarm his stomach with each and every gentle touch. “I am if you are.”

Needless to say, this wedding was not at the burrow (much to Molly’s dislike). The ceremony, beautiful as it was, was small and short. The two were in love, simply. No large event was needed to indicate the happiness their future would hold. One glance at the gaze the two men held with one another during the exchanging of vows would ease any doubt anyone had in their minds. The sweet kiss was deepened when Theo dips Ron dramatically, causing a deep blush to bloom across his cheeks, even after all these years.

At the reception, those that attended slowly left the couple and their friends to enjoy themselves. Leaving the former Hogwarts students to relive memories from the last few years and bask in the nostalgia.
“Even for you Theo, that was a little dramatic.” Pansy references the earlier wedding kiss.

“Well, I had to make it more memorable than yours and whatever Draco decides to pull next month.”

“I feel like I need to remind you that it’s not a competition anymore. We aren’t in school anymore.” Hermione adds gently, face slightly red from the champagne she’s sipping.

“Yes, it is.” The Slytherins present giggle in unison.

“I’m sure our wedding with be something you won’t forget. Your husband on the other hand… Maybe keep him away from the wine at the reception.” Draco teases, gesturing to a slightly intoxicated Weasley-Nott leaning heavily on Theo’s shoulder.

The group laughs together. Harry smiles. This feels right. No war, no conflicts, just a group of young adults swimming in the love they have for each other. They may have grown up without knowing love and Harry may have never known what a family really was, but This? This was it for him. His friends became his family a long time ago. This is all he could have ever wanted.

Beginning to get tired, he leans into Draco, yawning.

“Tired already, Potter? Dray keep you up last night?” Seamus slurs, laughing as his husband pulls him toward the door, shouting a goodnight (and an apology) to everyone and wishing the best to the Weasley-Notts.

Draco shakes his head, smiling. “Somethings never change.” Softer, he adds wrapping his arms around his lover, “Are you ready to head home, darling?”

Home. Yeah, he liked the sound of that.

Rule 16. Home May Just Be Within Your Enemy’s Arms.

Notes:

I hope you enjoyed this little adventure with me. This is my first story and I have grown as a writer since I started writing it. I plan to edit this entire work as time goes on. If you want to see other works for particular pairings in this fic, feel free to comment! I get inspiration from your comments honestly.

This was a blast to write, even if it took me two years and a pandemic to finally finish it.

Lots of love,
Taylor